“I figured you’d show up at the barns sooner or later,” a deep voice drawled close by. “I just hadn’t expected it to be quite this soon. Figured you’d be tired from your trip.”

  Katherine jumped to the side and she nearly lost her balance. The air left her lungs. She whirled in the direction of Trace Hawley’s voice, but quickly turned her face toward the horse again. She wiped a hasty hand at the remaining moisture on her cheeks.

  “It ain’t a good idea to be in a horse stall in those fancy clothes,” Trace drawled.

  Katherine inhaled slowly to calm the shock that she’d been discovered.

  “You ever gonna talk to me, or did you forget how to speak at that fancy finishing school?”

  “No, I didn’t forget.” Katherine snapped and reached her hand up to the horse’s neck. Using the animal to guide her, she walked toward the stall door.

  “Would you mind opening the door?”

  Why did she have to be discovered so soon, and by Trace, of all people? Katherine bit at the inside of her lower lip. When the stall door creaked, she took a tentative step forward. The ground beneath her feet became firm and she moved fully out of the stall into the barn aisle. Her shoulder brushed against Trace’s arm, and her heart rate increased.

  “Easy now, girl.” Trace’s deep drawl was followed by the crunching sounds of a horse chewing on a piece of hardtack. His voice sent a shiver down her spine. He’d been talking to the horse, but it almost sounded as if he was addressing her. She swallowed nervously. What to do?

  Every inch of her cried out to flee the barn and hide in a dark corner somewhere, where no one could find her. Where she could shut the world out at the moment.

  “This mare is the last daughter Goldfinder sired.”

  Katherine glanced to the side, in the direction of Trace’s voice. She focused on the faint outline of the large figure next to her. The mention of the stallion that had been her father’s pride and joy made her want to cry all over again.

  “She’s the last horse your daddy bred by him,” Trace continued. “He was real anxious for this foal, and she didn’t disappoint. She was a multiple stakes winner.” His voice was filled with pride. “A shame John never got to see her run.” He scoffed. “Your mother’s second husband wanted to sell her when she was a three-year-old.”

  Katherine listened quietly. Why was he even talking to her, telling her this? But she found herself engrossed in what he said.

  “But she didn’t get sold?” Katherine asked softly.

  “No. My pa wouldn’t allow it. He knew your daddy wanted to keep this horse. Your stepdaddy tried every year to get her into the sales.”

  Katherine turned fully toward him. She tilted her head up. “How did your pa, and now you, manage to keep that from happening? I didn’t know a ranch foreman had more say than the owner.” Her voice took on more volume.

  Trace chuckled. “Let’s just say I made a pretty convincing argument to your mother for keeping this mare here at the ranch. And she had her ways of controlling Frank.”

  Not where I was concerned, apparently. Katherine snorted with disdain.

  Trace chuckled again. He patted the mare’s neck, by the sounds of it.

  “I ain’t letting this pretty girl go. Not a chance. She may be worth a lot of money, but she’s definitely a keeper.”

  Katherine gave a disgusted laugh.

  “Yeah,” she said, contempt in her voice. “A good broodmare is invaluable to the future of a breeding operation.”

  The heat coming from Trace’s body and the distinct scent on his clothing that she’d come to know yesterday, drew closer.

  “Wow, Katie.” His breath tickled her cheek. “Seems like you haven’t lost your spunk after all. What’s got you so riled? You should be glad this mare is still here. You should be thanking me.”

  Katherine swallowed past the lump in her throat. Was he deliberately trying to intimidate her? She raised her chin, and squared her shoulders.

  “And why is that?”

  Trace’s shadow straightened in front of her. Her cheek cooled where seconds ago, he’d been inches from her.

  “Because your daddy wanted you to have Goldfinder’s final offspring.”

  Katherine stood still, not saying anything. Her mouth had gone dry and she fought back fresh tears that pooled in her eyes. She quickly turned her back to Trace.

  “Hey, Katie, I’m sorry.” Trace’s voice was soft and soothing, the same tone he had used with the mare. A warm hand settled on her shoulder, and she shrank away.

  “Don’t touch me,” she hissed. Anger flooded her. Anger that her father had to die, and anger at his ultimate betrayal. The need to get away raced through her insides and she ran toward the light coming from the barn entrance.

  Chapter Nine

  Trace stared after her as Katherine darted from the barn. For a second, it looked as if she was going to run right into the wall, but she veered to the left at the last moment. It was plain as day that she’d been upset when he’d found her in the stall. No doubt her mother had already gotten under her skin. He patted the mare’s neck while she rooted with her nose in his shirt pocket. Ironic that Katie would pick this particular mare to console her.

  Trace grinned. At least she’d shown a glimpse of her sassy side. She hadn’t turned into a complete wallflower in the big city, after all.

  Trace fed the mare a final treat and went to follow Katie. He hadn’t meant to upset her with talk of her father. Goading her had come almost natural, as if he was sixteen again and needed to get her riled.

  A man yelled and cursed loudly from outside, followed by the scuffling of hooves. A horse snorted.

  Trace swore under his breath and sprinted down the aisle and out of the barn. A young horse bucked and reared, while its handler tugged on the leadline, trying to steady the animal. Katie lay on the ground, in danger of getting trampled. Her skirts tangled around her legs, and she remained motionless. A rush of adrenaline shot through him and Trace rushed toward the spooked animal.

  The frightened yearling’s handler struggled to keep his hold on the lead as the young thoroughbred continued to step dangerously close to Katie. Visions of John Montgomery, pinned beneath a horse, flashed before Trace.

  “Get that horse the hell away from her!” he yelled, waving his arms in the air toward the spooked colt to make it move away. He sprang toward Katie, putting himself between her and the animal. Several stable hands came running at the commotion.

  “She came from out of nowhere, Trace. Kept right on running headlong into the colt like she didn’t even see him!” Sam called while still wrestling with the skittish horse.

  Trace didn’t acknowledge him. He dropped to his knees in the gravel next to Katie, his heart pounding in his ears. He slid a hand under her neck, gently lifting her head. She moaned softly and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Katie, can you hear me?” Trace leaned over her, unsure of where to safely touch her. Had the colt struck her?

  “It’s like Sam said. She ran right into that colt, Trace,” someone behind him said. “I seen the whole thing. It spooked him and he reared. I dunno if he got her with his hoof.”

  Katie stirred on the ground. Trace touched his thumb across her temple, swiping away the hair that had come loose from its pins.

  “Katie, where are you hurt?” he whispered. The thought that she might be injured sent a renewed wave of dread through him.

  “She gonna be okay?” someone else asked from behind him.

  “Give me some room,” Trace growled to the men who were crowding around him and Katie. He gently eased her to a sitting position, supporting her back.

  “What were you thinkin’, running into that colt?” he asked with a quick chuckle to disguise his apprehension. He grinned with relief that she hadn’t suffered any apparent injuries. His smile faded, however, when he examined her a little closer. She looked dazed, her eyes unfocused.

  Slowly, he worked one arm under her knees while curling the other around her waist, and lifted her into his arms.

  “I’ll get you up to the house,” Trace said against her cheek.

  He raised himself to a standing position, adjusting her against him.

  “Set me down, I can walk.” Katie squirmed. Her eyes darted around frantically, looking in all directions with no clear purpose.

  “You might have taken a hit to the head, Katie. I don’t think it’s a good idea to let you walk.”

  “I only lost my balance,” she argued, pushing her hands against him without looking at him. “Set me down. I’m not hurt.”

  Her voice grew more insistent, that same defiance in her tone that had annoyed him so much in his youth. She’d just endured a long cross-country journey to return to where she belonged, and had nearly been trampled by a horse on her first day back. Relief swept through him. Relief that she seemed uninjured, and that she wasn’t the demure mouse he’d thought she’d turned into, after all.

  Trace’s grin returned. The quiet young woman from yesterday was already transforming back into the feisty girl he remembered. Some unexpected tender emotion welled up inside him.

  “At least let me help you back to the house so you don’t run into any more horses.”

  Slowly, he set her on her feet, keeping a supportive hand at her waist. He wasn’t ready to let go of her completely. The idea of holding Katherine Montgomery in his arms had always been as far-fetched as sending a mule to the Kentucky Derby, yet here he was, reluctant to let her go. The subtle scent of her perfume teased his nose and he cursed silently. Rather than ease his mind, the thought that Katie had matured into an enticing woman only complicated matters for him.

  “I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way back, Mr. Hawley. I did manage to get to the barns all by myself, too.”

  Trace’s grin widened. “How about you stop with the big city formalities and call me Trace like you used to? And I wasn’t implying that you’re incapable of getting to the house on your own. I was just trying to be helpful.”

  “What in heaven’s name is going on here?” a loud voice shrieked before Katie could decline his offer to help.

  Trace glanced up toward the sound of the noise. A woman swooped toward them along the path from the main house, her dark skirts swooshing around her legs like some avenging angel. Thankfully, Sam had managed to get the spooked colt far enough away that the woman rushing toward them wouldn’t scare the horse all over again.

  Katie groaned loudly next to him. Not out of pain, but because she’d apparently been caught doing something she ought not to have been doing.

  “Your handler appears mighty riled,” Trace leaned in and whispered against her cheek. His hand still lingered at her waist against his better judgment. “Is she gonna chew my head off because you’re at the barns?”

  Katie raised her head to look up at him. Before he could make eye contact with her, she blinked and dropped her gaze again. Why the hell was she afraid to look right at him? She’d avoided eye contact the day before, and she’d done it again in the barn a few minutes ago. Did she know that . . .

  “She’ll be mad at me. You have nothing to worry about.”

  She stepped away from him and Trace dropped his hand. A strange tingling sensation remained in his fingers and the irrational thought to hold her again jolted him.

  To conceal his thoughts, Trace laughed. “She seems to be the protective sort.”

  “Yes, she is,” Katie whispered.

  “Katherine Montgomery, what on earth were you thinking, rushing out of the house on your own?”

  Wilma Rodgers shot Trace a murderous glare before her eyes raked over Katie.

  “What happened to her?” she demanded, staring at the dust on Katie’s dress.

  “I tripped and fell. It’s nothing to worry yourself over,” Katie said quickly.

  “Tripped and fell? Do you realize you could have gotten killed, leaving the house all by yourself?” Wilma’s voice rose with each word she uttered. “You know how much I’ve supported your independence, Katherine, and that you’re getting around so well on your own, but this isn’t New York. Things aren’t familiar to you here.”

  Katie grabbed her guardian’s arm, and glared up at her. “This was my home for twelve years, Wilma. I can certainly get around here as well as I did in New York.” She leaned toward the woman, her voice filled with determination. “I just need to remember.”

  Trace followed the odd exchange. If New York was safer than a Montana horse ranch, he’d eat his leather boots.

  “I hardly think Katie’s life is in danger by coming to the barns, Mrs. Rodgers,” Trace said. “I can assure you, the men are polite and respectful, and Katie knows her way around horses.”

  Wilma’s head snapped up. Her eyes narrowed on him, then darted to Katie. Her bosom heaved, and she reached for Katie’s hand.

  “Come along, Katherine. I need a word with you in private, and you need to get cleaned up. When can we expect our luggage, Mr. Hawley?”

  “The driver I sent into town this morning should be back by noon,” Trace said slowly.

  He ran a hand along his jaw, eyeing Wilma’s grip on Katie’s wrist as the woman led her away. Katie’s shoulders slumped, and she hung her head. Now that her guardian was here, she had reverted back into her submissive role.

  “It’s good to have you home, Katie,” he mumbled under his breath, staring after the women. “And I think you need more time away from that handler.”

  Trace turned and headed for the barn, shaking his head. His immediate attraction to Katie startled him. He’d spent a restless night thinking about her, and had been most surprised when she’d shown up at the barn.

  You could have handled yourself better, then she might not have stormed off and run into that colt.

  It had to be quite an adjustment for her to be home after all these years. He could only guess at the reason she’d returned after a decade’s absence, and the thought didn’t sit well with him.

  He scoffed as he headed for his office. Sally had certainly been right yesterday, when she’d reminded him how much he’d changed over the years. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to John’s daughter, something he would have never thought could happen. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, though. It had taken years for folks to stop pointing fingers at him, blaming him for John’s death. Hell, he still blamed himself, but if he showed interest in Katie, the tongues would start wagging again.

  Trace clenched his jaw. He grabbed a stack of papers off his desk and headed for the main house. Chantal needed to sign some breeding contracts and he wanted to make sure that Katie hadn’t been injured by that colt, after all.

  Maggie, the maid, opened the door for him after he knocked.

  “She’s in rare form this morning,” the girl whispered after ushering him through the door. “First she has an argument with her daughter over breakfast, and now she’s having it out with Miss Katherine’s companion.”

  Trace smiled at Maggie. Loud voices drifted from Chantal’s study down the hall.

  “Maybe I’ll just interrupt, and break up their little spat,” he said, and headed for the noise.

  “We can’t let word get out about her condition, Wilma,” Chantal said heatedly. Trace stopped just outside the door. Her could only mean Katie. Despite his better judgment, he didn’t enter the room, but stayed just outside to listen.

  “What are you talking about, Chantal? You make it sound as if your daughter has a disease. Why would you want to keep it a secret?” Wilma Rodgers matched Chantal’s stern voice. Trace grinned. Maybe he liked the woman, after all.

  “I’ve made sure that no one has found out in ten years. Katherine looks completely normal. You’ve assured me yourself that she gets around well, if things are familiar to her.”

  Trace frowned. What the hell was the old bat talking about? Was Katie sick?

  “Yes, Chantal, Katherine is remarkably aware of her surroundings, and to the casual observer it would appear she is completely normal.”

  “We must keep it that way for as long as possible. At least until after she’s engaged.”

  “Engaged?” Wilma voiced the surprise that jolted Trace to the core. The thought that Katie might have a beau should come as a relief, not grip him with sudden irritation.

  “Arrangements are under way for Katherine’s twenty-third birthday party in a few weeks, Wilma. I’ve invited all the prominent folks throughout the territory. Once I’ve found a suitable husband for her, you can return to New York.”

  “Is Katherine agreeable to this?” Wilma huffed.

  “Katherine has a duty to this ranch, and she’ll carry it out, whether she is agreeable or not.” Chantal’s voice had turned icy.

  “It’s going to take a certain man, a caring man, to look past her handicap, Chantal. You can’t simply marry your daughter off to just anyone.”

  “Money talks, Wilma,” Chantal continued coldly. “My daughter certainly has favorable physical attributes that make her a suitable wife, and there is enough money involved that any man would look past her other . . . flaw.”

  “We’re talking about your daughter, Chantal,” Wilma implored. “Not some animal without a mind and feelings of its own.”

  Trace stood, rooted to the spot. His jaw clenched. Anger flooded him, just as it had all those years ago when he’d accidentally overheard another conversation that involved Katherine . . . and him. Only that time, Katie hadn’t been talked about like some prized mare at auction. He cursed silently.

  A soft tapping on his shoulder startled him and his head whipped around. Sally stood close behind him, a quizzical look on her face. Trace grabbed her arm and ushered her down the hall and out the front door. He didn’t stop until they were a good distance from the house.

  “What’s going on, Trace?” Sally shot him a bewildered look. Trace glanced toward the house again before he spoke.

  “How much time did you spend with Katie yesterday?” he asked, unsure of how to ask his sister what she knew of the apparent flaw to which Chantal had alluded. Katie had seemed perfectly normal to him.

 

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