Read Online Keegan's Lady by Catherine Anderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Anderson
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hurt me. I swear it. I'm okay, Paddy. Honestly, I am."
Some of the tension went out of his body. After a moment, he said, "No thanks to me, just like Hank said. I can't believe I let you go back there with him. I can't believe I did it!"
"Oh, Patrick. It's the whiskey. Don't you see?" Pictures flashed in her mind of all the other crazy, unexplainable things Patrick had done recently. It made her feel as if her brother bad left on a prolonged journey and an imposter had taken his place. "It's just the whiskey."
Silence settled between them—an awful silence filled with jittery thoughts of what had just occurred. She listened to the faint sound of the pigs rutting outside in their pen, to the low bawling of the cow in her stall. Anything to avoid thinking about Keegan.
After a long pause, Patrick said, "The danger isn't entirely over, you know."
Caitlin shot an uneasy glance over her shoulder. "What do you mean, not over? Hank said they've all left. We're safe enough—for tonight, at least."
"What'll we do if those men go into town and start shooting their mouths off? If word gets out, your reputation will be destroyed."
Caitlin relaxed slightly. Keeping her reputation intact was not a major concern to her. She was more worried about things like rain checks and dealing with the very real danger of Ace Keegan's return. Not that she would dare tell Patrick that.
She went to hunker at his side and put her arms around him. "Let's not borrow trouble. Besides, remember me? The nutty sister who loves to bury her nose in a book and dream of faraway places? The one who wants to hare off to San Francisco and attend the opera once a week? If worse comes to worse, a tarnished reputation won't follow me that far."
"If not for me, you wouldn't still be wanting to hare off."
"Don't be silly, Patrick."
"Now that Pa's dead, what other reason is there for you to leave?"
Caitlin didn't know the answer. She only knew she wanted to go. Maybe it was the memories that haunted her here. Or perhaps it was a simple need to wipe her slate clean and start over. Regardless, now was not the time to discuss her reasons. Not when Patrick was drunk. Not when he could seem perfectly lucid one moment, and turn mad as a hatter the next.
"My passion for faraway places has nothing to do with you, boyo. I've been reading about the ballet and opera since I was knee high, and you know it. Why would you think my yearning to experience those things has anything to do with you?"
"Because I just do, that's all."
Caitlin sighed and ruffled his hair, her heart breaking a little at the self-recrimination in his expression. "Patrick, trust me. If anything, you're the one reason I might decide to stay. I love you, silly boy. Don't you know that? I admit, you've been difficult these last few months, and I've wanted to wring your neck more times than I can count. But one rough spot in all the years we've shared is hardly enough reason to make me hate you."
His mouth thinned into a grim line. "You might change your mind when you can't leave because we're making payments to Keegan for that damned bull. Before he left, he told me the only way he'll consider us even is if I pay him five thousand dollars."
Caitlin's stomach tightened. It had taken her five years to save a thousand dollars. "Did he say you could make payments?"
"Monthly." Patrick passed a hand over his eyes again. "Whatever amount I can afford."
Five thousand. The amount was staggering. And in addition to that, Keegan held a raincheck over her head to avail himself of her body. She curled her hands into tight fists. "We'll manage, Patrick. Together. We always have, haven't we?"
Patrick flashed her a glance. "I've really made a mess of things. I can't believe I shot that bull. It seems so crazy now when I—" His voice broke, and he swallowed convulsively. "I gut shot it on purpose," he whispered, "So it would die a horrible death. And then I rode off and left it bawling." He squeezed his eyes
Some of the tension went out of his body. After a moment, he said, "No thanks to me, just like Hank said. I can't believe I let you go back there with him. I can't believe I did it!"
"Oh, Patrick. It's the whiskey. Don't you see?" Pictures flashed in her mind of all the other crazy, unexplainable things Patrick had done recently. It made her feel as if her brother bad left on a prolonged journey and an imposter had taken his place. "It's just the whiskey."
Silence settled between them—an awful silence filled with jittery thoughts of what had just occurred. She listened to the faint sound of the pigs rutting outside in their pen, to the low bawling of the cow in her stall. Anything to avoid thinking about Keegan.
After a long pause, Patrick said, "The danger isn't entirely over, you know."
Caitlin shot an uneasy glance over her shoulder. "What do you mean, not over? Hank said they've all left. We're safe enough—for tonight, at least."
"What'll we do if those men go into town and start shooting their mouths off? If word gets out, your reputation will be destroyed."
Caitlin relaxed slightly. Keeping her reputation intact was not a major concern to her. She was more worried about things like rain checks and dealing with the very real danger of Ace Keegan's return. Not that she would dare tell Patrick that.
She went to hunker at his side and put her arms around him. "Let's not borrow trouble. Besides, remember me? The nutty sister who loves to bury her nose in a book and dream of faraway places? The one who wants to hare off to San Francisco and attend the opera once a week? If worse comes to worse, a tarnished reputation won't follow me that far."
"If not for me, you wouldn't still be wanting to hare off."
"Don't be silly, Patrick."
"Now that Pa's dead, what other reason is there for you to leave?"
Caitlin didn't know the answer. She only knew she wanted to go. Maybe it was the memories that haunted her here. Or perhaps it was a simple need to wipe her slate clean and start over. Regardless, now was not the time to discuss her reasons. Not when Patrick was drunk. Not when he could seem perfectly lucid one moment, and turn mad as a hatter the next.
"My passion for faraway places has nothing to do with you, boyo. I've been reading about the ballet and opera since I was knee high, and you know it. Why would you think my yearning to experience those things has anything to do with you?"
"Because I just do, that's all."
Caitlin sighed and ruffled his hair, her heart breaking a little at the self-recrimination in his expression. "Patrick, trust me. If anything, you're the one reason I might decide to stay. I love you, silly boy. Don't you know that? I admit, you've been difficult these last few months, and I've wanted to wring your neck more times than I can count. But one rough spot in all the years we've shared is hardly enough reason to make me hate you."
His mouth thinned into a grim line. "You might change your mind when you can't leave because we're making payments to Keegan for that damned bull. Before he left, he told me the only way he'll consider us even is if I pay him five thousand dollars."
Caitlin's stomach tightened. It had taken her five years to save a thousand dollars. "Did he say you could make payments?"
"Monthly." Patrick passed a hand over his eyes again. "Whatever amount I can afford."
Five thousand. The amount was staggering. And in addition to that, Keegan held a raincheck over her head to avail himself of her body. She curled her hands into tight fists. "We'll manage, Patrick. Together. We always have, haven't we?"
Patrick flashed her a glance. "I've really made a mess of things. I can't believe I shot that bull. It seems so crazy now when I—" His voice broke, and he swallowed convulsively. "I gut shot it on purpose," he whispered, "So it would die a horrible death. And then I rode off and left it bawling." He squeezed his eyes
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