Read Online Loving Katherine by Carolyn Davidson - Free Book Online
Authors: Carolyn Davidson
Ads: Link
guess I wasn’t in the mood for chicken. I didn’t seem to work up much appetite this morning.”
“Well, you can just heat up the leftovers later on,” he told her. “It’ll save you cookin’ supper after while.”
“I’d have to add a mess of vegetables to the pot and call it soup,” she said with a quick smile in his direction. He wasn’t going to tease her, she realized, and her smile widened.
“A pan of cornbread would go real well with that,” he suggested hopefully. “You sure do make good pone, Kate.”
It was the second time he had shortened her name today. She considered him. Leaning back in his chair, he looked utterly relaxed. It was an illusion, she knew for a fact. Rarely did Roan Devereaux allow himself to be off guard. As if he were aware of every movement within his range of sight and hearing, he kept watch. That he could do so and still maintain a conversation puzzled her.
Another puzzle was his calling her “Kate.”
“My father used to call me that,” she said quietly.
“Kate?”
She nodded. “No one else ever has, just Charlie.”
“I didn’t mean to be too familiar. Sometimes you just look like…like you ought to be Kate.” His eyes were dark, their regard warming, and his mouth was pursed as he studied her.
“I don’t mind,” she said quickly. It was a familiarity that pleased her somehow. And she fought against the pleasure it brought her. He’ll be gone… before you know it, he’ll be gone, she told herself. And you’ll miss him.
That admission was a new one. So hurting was it, she rose and gathered up the plates and forks, carrying them to the sink and depositing them with a clatter in the tin dishpan waiting there. She couldn’t afford to miss him, she thought, blinking away the hot tears burning against her eyelids.
“Katherine?”
She heard his chair scrape against the floor and she blinked furiously, determined to hide any evidence of weakness. Not on your life, Roan Devereaux, she thought furiously. You’ve already known me for a softhearted female once today. I’ll be switched if you see me being foolish again.
“It’s time to be movin’ on,” he mused beneath his breath as he pounded the last nail into place. The stall door hung straight, the latch was in place, and for the life of him, he couldn’t find another thing to do in the barn.
On top of that, Katherine was looking better to him all the time, and he surely didn’t need a woman to complicate his life right now. At least, not on a long-term basis. And Katherine was definitely not a bed-’em-and-leave-’em woman.
He watched her from the barn door. Watched as she took the last of his clothing from the line she’d strung between the cabin and the milk house. His gaze was fixed on the heavy rope of hair that caught the sunlight and gleamed with hidden fire. Prettier than a spotted pony and twice as spunky, he thought with a subdued chuckle. She’d be a prize for the right man. One willing to look beyond her fierce pride and drab demeanor.
“Katherine,” he called, reluctantly heading in her direction. “How about if I take a look inside the house and see what needs tending before I head out of here? Thought I’d see what I can put to rights for you.”
Her head shot up and she put out one hand in an unmistakable gesture. “My house will do fine, thank you. I manage to keep it up to snuff without any trouble at all.”
He lifted one eyebrow in silent question. “If you’re sure about that…” he said, unwilling to push, aware of her fierce possessiveness when it came to her own surroundings.
“Are you heading out?” she asked bluntly.
He sauntered closer, his eyes intent on her fisted hands, clenched at her sides, betraying the tension she sought to conceal. Katherine was not nearly as unconcerned about being here alone as she let on, he decided.
“It’s about time. I’m pret’ near thirty years old and my family hasn’t seen me in ten or twelve years.” His
“Well, you can just heat up the leftovers later on,” he told her. “It’ll save you cookin’ supper after while.”
“I’d have to add a mess of vegetables to the pot and call it soup,” she said with a quick smile in his direction. He wasn’t going to tease her, she realized, and her smile widened.
“A pan of cornbread would go real well with that,” he suggested hopefully. “You sure do make good pone, Kate.”
It was the second time he had shortened her name today. She considered him. Leaning back in his chair, he looked utterly relaxed. It was an illusion, she knew for a fact. Rarely did Roan Devereaux allow himself to be off guard. As if he were aware of every movement within his range of sight and hearing, he kept watch. That he could do so and still maintain a conversation puzzled her.
Another puzzle was his calling her “Kate.”
“My father used to call me that,” she said quietly.
“Kate?”
She nodded. “No one else ever has, just Charlie.”
“I didn’t mean to be too familiar. Sometimes you just look like…like you ought to be Kate.” His eyes were dark, their regard warming, and his mouth was pursed as he studied her.
“I don’t mind,” she said quickly. It was a familiarity that pleased her somehow. And she fought against the pleasure it brought her. He’ll be gone… before you know it, he’ll be gone, she told herself. And you’ll miss him.
That admission was a new one. So hurting was it, she rose and gathered up the plates and forks, carrying them to the sink and depositing them with a clatter in the tin dishpan waiting there. She couldn’t afford to miss him, she thought, blinking away the hot tears burning against her eyelids.
“Katherine?”
She heard his chair scrape against the floor and she blinked furiously, determined to hide any evidence of weakness. Not on your life, Roan Devereaux, she thought furiously. You’ve already known me for a softhearted female once today. I’ll be switched if you see me being foolish again.
“It’s time to be movin’ on,” he mused beneath his breath as he pounded the last nail into place. The stall door hung straight, the latch was in place, and for the life of him, he couldn’t find another thing to do in the barn.
On top of that, Katherine was looking better to him all the time, and he surely didn’t need a woman to complicate his life right now. At least, not on a long-term basis. And Katherine was definitely not a bed-’em-and-leave-’em woman.
He watched her from the barn door. Watched as she took the last of his clothing from the line she’d strung between the cabin and the milk house. His gaze was fixed on the heavy rope of hair that caught the sunlight and gleamed with hidden fire. Prettier than a spotted pony and twice as spunky, he thought with a subdued chuckle. She’d be a prize for the right man. One willing to look beyond her fierce pride and drab demeanor.
“Katherine,” he called, reluctantly heading in her direction. “How about if I take a look inside the house and see what needs tending before I head out of here? Thought I’d see what I can put to rights for you.”
Her head shot up and she put out one hand in an unmistakable gesture. “My house will do fine, thank you. I manage to keep it up to snuff without any trouble at all.”
He lifted one eyebrow in silent question. “If you’re sure about that…” he said, unwilling to push, aware of her fierce possessiveness when it came to her own surroundings.
“Are you heading out?” she asked bluntly.
He sauntered closer, his eyes intent on her fisted hands, clenched at her sides, betraying the tension she sought to conceal. Katherine was not nearly as unconcerned about being here alone as she let on, he decided.
“It’s about time. I’m pret’ near thirty years old and my family hasn’t seen me in ten or twelve years.” His
Similar Books
