CHAPTER 6

Karen snapped awake in the morning to the scent of coffee brewing.

Caleb, she thought for a heartbeat, before she remembered and her mood shattered.

No, not her husband, but his worst enemy, she realized, sinking back against the pillows and drawing the covers up. The gesture was partly because it was cold, but also a halfhearted attempt to hide, to pretend that just outside her door nothing was different. Burrowing under the covers had been her way of trying to escape notice since childhood, when she hadn’t wanted to leave the warmth and safety of home to go to school.

Of course, that had all changed once she had had the Calamity Janes in her life. From then on there had been no hiding. She had been anxious to get to school each morning to see what adventure Cassie had dreamed up overnight, or what treat Gina had baked in her ongoing experiments with recipes.

But that was then. Things were a whole lot more complicated in her life now. She had plenty of reasons to hide, and the most disturbing one was currently in her kitchen.

She snuggled under the quilt her mother had made for her as a wedding present and tried to imagine what it must be like outside this morning. The sun was already up, its brilliance pouring through the windows, casting fingers of warmth and light across the room. The wind had died down. In fact, it was perfectly still, as if the snow were absorbing sound.

When the scent of coffee was joined by that of bacon sizzling, Karen could no longer resist. She couldn’t think of the last time someone had had breakfast on the table for her. That had always been her task, while Caleb was out tending to the animals. This time of year she had made oatmeal with raisins and warm milk to go along with the eggs and bacon Caleb had insisted on.

She pulled on thermal underwear and jeans, then deliberately chose another of Caleb’s flannel shirts.

After she’d brushed her teeth, washed her face and combed her hair, she caught sight of a seldom-used bottle of perfume on the counter. What harm could there be in a little spritz? It wasn’t vanity, she assured herself. Or an attempt to be alluring for Grady. It was just a little scent of lilacs to remind her of spring.

She added heavy socks, then did a haphazard job of making her bed before bracing herself and heading downstairs to find her boots…and whatever else awaited.

As she approached the kitchen, she felt amazingly ill at ease, as uncertain as if the night had been far more intimate and this was the uncomfortable morning after. In some ways it was worse, because the desire had been there, shimmering between them, but they had carefully ignored it.

Hovering just outside the kitchen door, her boots in hand, she watched Grady at work at the stove, his movements efficient and confident. It was a revelation to her after a father and a husband who’d never shared in household chores. Seeing Grady deftly flip a pancake only added to his masculinity. It certainly didn’t diminish it as her father and Caleb believed it might if they lowered themselves to help in the kitchen.

“You might as well come on in,” Grady said without turning around, amusement threading through his voice.

“Do you have eyes in the back of your head?” she grumbled, stepping into the kitchen, dropping her boots onto the floor and reaching for a mug. “I know you didn’t hear me. The floor didn’t creak once.”

“Nope. I smelled the scent of lilacs. Given the time of year and the weather, it had to be you.”

He turned, coffeepot in hand, to fill her cup. His warm gaze rested on her in a way that left her feeling oddly breathless. He was so at home in her kitchen, so at ease, for an instant she almost felt as if this were his house and she was the guest.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

Karen smiled at the question.

“You find that amusing?”

She nodded. “I was just thinking that you look as if you’ve made yourself at home. Now you’re inquiring about my night as a good host would.”

He grinned. “I notice you’re not inquiring about mine, so I’ll tell you. I slept very well. Had some fascinating dreams, too.”

Her breath snagged. “Oh?”

“Shall I tell you about them?” he inquired, a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

“Why don’t we leave them to my imagination,” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s up to you, but they certainly kept me warm.”

“Grady!”

He chuckled. “Okay, I won’t tease. How many pancakes can you eat?”

She eyed the size of them. They were twice as big around as the ones she made. “Two,” she decided.

“Bacon?”

She glanced at the plate and saw that he’d fried half a dozen strips. “Two strips.”

He studied her. “Two eggs also?”

“Nope. Only one.”

“Good. I was worried you were getting into a rut.”

“I probably am,” she admitted, thinking about the sameness of her life the last ten years. “But food’s the least of it.”

Grady fixed his own plate and sat down opposite her. “Can I ask you a question?”

She feigned shock. “You’re asking permission? It must be a doozy.”

“It is personal,” he conceded. “And you may not want to talk about it, not to me, anyway.”

Now he’d stirred her curiosity. “Ask,” she said.

“Do you regret marrying Caleb?” When she started to react with indignation, he held up his hand. “No, wait. I don’t mean Caleb specifically, I guess. I know you loved him. I mean do you regret sacrificing all those things you’d hoped to do by marrying a rancher?”

There was less to offend in the way he’d rephrased the question. She took a sip of her coffee and considered it thoughtfully.

“You’re right. I did give up a lot,” she conceded eventually. “I had so many ambitious dreams.”

“About traveling?”

“Travel, adventure, education. Not education as in school, but the kind of learning that comes with seeing places and meeting people. I wanted to feel history by standing in the middle of Westminster Abbey or Trafalgar Square, or standing on the steps of Parliament in London. I wanted to visit the Colosseum and the Vatican. I wanted to learn about artists like van Gogh and Monet and Rembrandt by standing in front of their works in the Louvre and other famous museums.”

“Yet you gave all of that up to marry Caleb,” he said.

She met his gaze. “Yes. Because, in the end, he mattered more,” she said simply. “The rest…we would have done it one day, together if…” She sighed, battled against the familiar threat of tears, steadied her voice. “If things had been different.”

“You never resented him?”

“Not once,” she said honestly. “And don’t forget, I knew what I was getting into. I was raised on a ranch. This life wasn’t new to me, and it has its good points.” She glanced toward the window where tree branches were covered with blankets of sparkling snow. “Mornings like this are among them.”

“They are, aren’t they?” he said quietly, following her gaze to the pristine white scene outside.

When he turned back to her, there was a twinkle back in his eyes. “Do you know what I like about a day like today?”

“What?”

“It gives you permission to play hooky. The roads will be impassable for hours yet. Once you’ve checked to make sure the horses have fresh water and feed, the day is yours.”

She grinned at the boyish enthusiasm on his face and in his voice. “So, what do you do when you play hooky?”

“Well, now, that depends. When I’m all alone, I build a roaring fire, pick a book I haven’t had time to read and settle down in a comfortable chair.” His gaze sought hers and turned warm. “When I have a lovely companion trapped inside with me, there are all sorts of interesting possibilities.”

Heat shot through her. Anticipation made her feel all quivery inside. She swallowed hard. “Such as?”

“Now don’t go getting ideas,” he teased. “I’m not easy. I won’t be taken advantage of, just because we’re locked away here all alone.”

She chuckled and the tension was broken. “You’re outrageous, you know that, don’t you?”

“I do try. Now, seriously, what are our options? Scrabble? Cards?”

“I have a shelf filled with good books,” she offered.

“Oh, no, that would be fine if we didn’t have each other. Since we do, we need something we can do together.” His gaze locked on hers. “Now, there you go again, getting ideas.”

“I am not,” she insisted, but she could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. How could he joke so easily about an attraction that she was desperate to ignore? Perhaps because he’d had more practice at casual flirtations, while she’d had none.

“Okay, then, how about…” He paused, then said, “A jigsaw puzzle?”

She stared at him, astounded. How could he have known that she had a dozen of them stacked in a cupboard for days just like this one? Had he guessed? Or had he been snooping? Surely she hadn’t mentioned it.

“Does that appeal to you at all?” he asked, his expression totally innocent. “Do you have any around?”

“Quite a few,” she admitted. “But are you sure you want to do that? It seems, I don’t know…a little tame, maybe?” Caleb had certainly never been interested in doing one with her. He’d considered it a waste of time to put something together, only to take it apart again. He was too practical for that.

Grady winked. “You’ve never done a puzzle with me. How about this? I’ll go check on the horses. You clear things up in here and get us set up with the most complicated, challenging puzzle you have. I’ll bring in some more wood for the fire when I come back.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, already anticipating the lazy morning ahead. Even the company was surprisingly appealing. Grady continued to startle her with his unexpected insight into her personality and what would make her happy. Was that because he was incredibly sensitive and intuitive, or because he was devious and clever? For the next few hours, maybe it didn’t even matter.

An hour later they were in front of a blazing fire. The damp wood was popping and snapping as it caught. Karen had chosen two puzzles, one a detailed country scene with only five hundred pieces, the other a wickedly difficult thousand-piece image of hundreds of tropical fish. She left it to Grady to decide.

“The fish,” he said at once. He brought paper and pen to the table.

“What are those for?”

“To keep score, of course.”

“You keep score when you put a puzzle together?”

“I told you it was more of a challenge when I did it. Are you game?”

Her competitive spirit kicked in. “Absolutely.” She’d put this puzzle together once before. She knew exactly where some of the trickiest sections were and what to watch for. “How are you scoring? Total number of pieces we each put together?”

“Exactly. We have one hour.”

She looked up from her assessment of the pieces spread across the table. “An hour?”

He grinned. “After that, if it’s necessary, we work together to finish it. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” she said, and solemnly held out her hand.

Grady’s clasp was warm and brief—his attention was already totally focused on the puzzle. Before she’d even had a chance to catch her breath, he’d snapped his first two pieces together.

Karen forced her concentration back to the puzzle. She found two linking pieces of her own, then a third. Within a few minutes she had the bottom right corner of the puzzle coming together nicely.

She glanced across the table and saw that Grady was at work on the top left section, his brow furrowed, his gaze intent. His total absorption was endearing somehow. It made her wonder if he would be that totally absorbed when he was making love.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, her cheeks burned. No more of that, she chided herself, forcing her gaze back to the puzzle. It would play havoc with her concentration.

As it turned out, it already had. Though she tried to get back into it, all the pieces began to look the same. She tried to fit together several that were wildly mismatched…as she and Grady were, she reminded herself.

Stop that! she ordered herself as his knee bumped up against hers, sending an electric current racing down her leg. Her thoughts turned chaotic again. Suspicious, she stared at him. Had the grazing of his knee been intentional? Was he deliberately trying to distract her? Was this payback for her game to ruin his popcorn the night before? If so, she couldn’t tell it from his expression. He appeared completely focused, completely oblivious to her presence, and his section of the puzzle was growing by leaps and bounds.

She shifted her foot under the table until it found his leg. To justify her uncharacteristic actions, she told herself this was war as she began a slow, upward slide, her gaze locked intently on the table as if she had no idea what was happening beneath it. Grady jolted as if she’d prodded him with a hot poker from the fireplace. She bit back a grin, delighted that she had his full attention.

That bit of distraction allowed her to quickly assemble several more puzzle pieces, and she grinned as she saw she had completed the full outline of the right side.

The next time Grady reached for a piece, she made sure she reached for it at the same time, her hand covering his.

“Oh, sorry,” she said sweetly, as she withdrew.

He watched her, his gaze narrowed. “What are you up to, Karen?”

“Up to?” she said innocently. “I just thought that piece was the one I needed.”

“Did you now?” he asked suspiciously. “Where did you think it went? Show me.”

She took it and tried it in the bottom corner. Of course, it didn’t fit. “Guess not,” she said with a shrug. She handed it back to him.

“You’re dangerous,” he said huskily. “You know that, don’t you, Karen?”

No man had ever suggested she was dangerous, and Karen discovered she liked it that Grady had. “Remember that,” she advised as she went back to work on the puzzle, deliberately ignoring him.

Naturally Grady wasn’t satisfied to leave it at that. Feeling his gaze on her, she glanced up to find his dark eyes studying her intently.

“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on the puzzle?” she inquired.

“You’re more fascinating,” he said.

Truthfully, he was more intriguing than the puzzle, too, but Karen didn’t dare mention that. The teasing actions she had meant to distract him had affected her as well. The deliberate flirting had made her a little too aware of him as a flesh-and-blood man, instead of an abstract enemy. She was losing her grip on that negative image of him, letting the barriers crumble.

When she realized that he was no longer staring at her but at the puzzle, that he’d used these few minutes to complete another big chunk, she recognized that letting her guard down, even for a second, was a mistake. It was a lesson she needed to keep in mind.

Glancing at the clock, she saw that there were fifteen minutes left in their competition. Grady had a serious lead. She couldn’t let him win. Not at this. Not at any of his games. The stakes were too high and, for one terrifying minute, she had lost sight of that.

It wouldn’t happen again, Karen vowed, as she went back to work on the puzzle with total concentration. This might be just a silly contest, but Grady was clearly playing as he did everything, with a winner-take-all attitude. It would be wise to remember that, because the next time she might lose more than a game.

* * *

Grady had never expected to get turned on by doing a jigsaw puzzle. Oh, he’d always found competition to be invigorating, but arousing? Never. Which meant this had to do with his opponent.

He glanced at Karen, amused by her flushed cheeks, by the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth, as she focused totally on the puzzle. She was a feisty, sneaky competitor, far more devious than he’d ever envisioned. She had taken him totally by surprise when she’d flirted outrageously in a very successful attempt to distract him.

Not only was he distracted from the game, he was totally absorbed by the female puzzle sitting opposite him. He realized that he was no closer to his goal of understanding Karen than he had been on the day he’d decided to start spending time with her. There were too many layers, too many contradictions.

Her blind loyalty to her husband’s memory bumped up against her sense of fair play. Her wistful dreams clashed with the harsh reality of her life. She was stubborn and hardheaded, yet vulnerable. Her eyes could flash with defiance and anger one minute, with heat and desire the next. And heat and desire were what she aroused in him, on a more continual basis.

Something was happening between the two of them, but Grady was at a loss to understand it or to predict where it might lead. Nor did he dare jump to any conclusions, because one misstep could ruin everything.

The ringing of a phone jarred the peaceful ambiance. Karen looked up, startled, and maybe even a little bit afraid. Or was it guilt that caused the color in her cheeks to heighten again? Guilt that she was sharing the day with him?

It took her a minute to react, but then she bolted for the kitchen. He heard her answer the phone with a terse greeting, then her voice dropped and he could hear nothing at all.

Knowing it would infuriate her, he used the time to add another dozen pieces to his section of the puzzle. He studied her work and his own and concluded that he had the game easily won.

When she came back into the room, she looked shaken.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

She nodded, but her expression remained troubled and she stood several feet from the table, as if she didn’t dare sit down and join him.

“I don’t believe you,” he said bluntly. “Who was on the phone?”

“Just Gina, making sure that everything was okay out here.”

So far, he didn’t see the problem. “And?”

Worried blue eyes finally met his. “She’d heard you were here.”

“How would she hear a thing like that?” he asked.

“One of the neighbors apparently saw you turning in here earlier in the day yesterday. Somebody asked Hank about it, and he told ’em to mind their own business. Dooley apparently wasn’t so circumspect.”

Grady was indignant. “Seems like a lot of commotion over you having a visitor.”

“Not just any visitor,” she reminded him. “You.”

“So what?”

“Grady, don’t play dumb. You know how the Hansons will feel when they hear about this. It’s bad enough that people are probably calling every ten seconds to report that you’ve been stopping by to help out. When they hear you were here overnight, they’re going to go ballistic.”

He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. “Karen, nothing happened last night.”

She scowled at him. “Don’t you think I know that? But it’s appearances that matter.”

“Really?”

“With Caleb’s parents, it is.”

“And their opinion matters to you?”

“Of course it does. He was their son. This was their home. I have a duty…”

He found himself battling exasperation. “The only duty you have is to yourself.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong. People don’t live just for themselves. You have to consider the impact your actions could have on everyone you care about.” Her gaze challenged him. “Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

He regarded her with confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you? You told me you want to buy this ranch because of your grandfather,” she reminded him. “It’s never been about you, has it? It’s been about your sense of duty toward a man you admire and love and to those who came before him, people you never knew at all.”

The accuracy of her assessment made him pause. “Okay, you’re right.”

“So you have your obligations and I have mine. I don’t want to hurt the Hansons, Grady. I really don’t.”

“And my being here will hurt them.”

She nodded.

Because he hated seeing her so unhappy, he stood up. “I’m sure the highway has been plowed by now. My truck will make it down your driveway. I’ll go.” His gaze locked with hers. “If that’s what you want.”

“I do,” she said, but there was little conviction in her voice. Clearly she was struggling with herself.

Again Grady took pity on her. He would go, but not before he stepped closer, trailed a finger along her cheek. Unable to resist, he rubbed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, needing to know if it was a soft as it looked. It was, and it quivered beneath his touch.

“It’s okay, Karen,” he told her quietly.

“It’s not,” she said. “I shouldn’t be insisting that you go. If something happens—”

“Nothing is going to happen. I’ll call you when I get to my place, if it’ll make you feel any better.” He forced a grin. “Though I’d think you might actually feel better if I slid into a ditch.”

She stared at him, clearly aghast at the suggestion. “How can you say a thing like that?”

“I am a thorn in your side, aren’t I?”

“True,” she admitted with her unfailing candor. Then she sighed. “But I’m starting to get used to it.”

Another tiny triumph, Grady concluded. He would savor that on the long, cold, risky ride home.