“I’m exaggerating, but it was worth it to see that appalled look on your face.” Cade grinned at her. He shifted the lines to his left hand and laid his right on her knee.
And although she wore a coat and several layers under that, Jolie thought she could feel the heat of his hand through all them. She hardly dared move, afraid he would realize what he was doing and move it. It was a sweet gesture, one that made her think he was indeed attracted to her.
Her cheeks went warm despite the cold air rushing against them, and she tried to pick up the threads of their conversation again. “Well, I suppose I could learn how to make one myself.”
“A table?” His eyebrows lifted.
“And chairs too.”
“You want to make a table and chairs?”
She turned toward him. “Why shouldn’t I?”
Cade shrugged. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t. I’m simply curious aboutwhenyou’re planning to do that.”
“Well . . . after—or between . . .” She trailed off. Her days were busy, filled with chores and exploring the land and then more chores. If she was going to take up woodworking, she’d likely have to stop recording new plants and observing the world around her.
“Perhaps we’ll set some money aside and ask someone in town to make them for us,” Cade said.
“That might be best,” Jolie agreed.
They fell silent, and her gaze drifted back up to the stars. That made her think of Lucas again. “Did Mr. Sawyer indicate how well he knew your brother?”
Cade pulled his hand from her knee and stared straight ahead. “He didn’t. I didn’t ask him.”
Jolie chewed her lip. He seemed agitated. She thought back to what she’d said—none of it had related to Lucas’s death. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything to do with that. But this was different. “I thought perhaps he would know where the cattle had gone, or whether Lucas—”
“Stop, Jolie. Please.” He didn’t look at her, but his posture was rigid, and he clenched his jaw.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I only thought that if you spoke to Mr. Sawyer about Lucas—”
“Stopsaying his name.” Cade’s expression had gone stormy. “Over and over again, it’s all I hear. Just leave him be! And quit pestering me about him. It won’t bring him back. Nothing will. He’s dead, and we have to go on.”
Jolie pressed her lips together as tears stung her eyes. They’d reached the ranch, and the second Cade drew the wagon to a halt, she leapt from her seat. Landing hard on the ground, she didn’t look at him as she made her way toward the dark house.
His words stung, whether he meant them to or not. He acted as if no one was ever to speak of Lucas again, but how was that fair to his brother’s memory? Were they to simply pretend he’d never existed? She thought she was helping Cade by talking about his brother, but all she’d gotten for her trouble was a raised voice and criticism.
She grabbed the lantern from where she’d left it just inside the front door. Fumbling for one of the matches they’d bought, fiery thoughts whirled through her head. If Cade wanted silence about Lucas, then he could have silence. In fact, she might never talk to him again! Perhaps she’d pretend he didn’t exist either, and he could see how he liked that.
But there was one thing she certainlywasn’tgoing to allow Cade to do, and that was to speak to her so harshly. She struck the match once, too hard, and broke it. Grabbing another one, she forced herself to slow down. The fire took this time, and as she lit the lantern, she wondered just how long she’d let him stew out there before going out to tell him precisely what she thought of his angry words.
All night. Yes, that would work just fine. She’d sleep comfortably inside the house tonight, and he could find himself a chilly spot by the barn in that tent.
And then she’d speak to him in the morning.
Chapter Twelve
Itwasnearingmidnight,and sleep was elusive.
Instead, Cade had spent hours sitting by the fire he’d built outside and staring into it as if the flames would somehow burn away his grief and his anger and his self-pity.
They hadn’t, of course, but the longer he sat out here, the more irritated with himself he became. Jolie had done nothing wrong. And he had been unnecessarily rude to her.
He stood and put out the fire, hoping he wouldn’t need to come back out here and relight it. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he gathered his courage and made his way toward the house. He opened the door quietly so as not to scare her if she was asleep, but he needn’t have worried.
Jolie was wide awake, sitting with her back pressed against the wall. In the low light of the lantern, she looked like an angel. Her blonde hair hung in curls over her shoulders and her skin glowed in the light. He sucked in his breath at the sight of her. He was an idiot for ever making this woman think he was anything except head over heels for her.
He shut the door quietly behind him and stood there for a moment. “I owe you an apology.”
