“No problem.”
When Katy limped upstairs, Nate followed in her wake. He appraised the grand old home, finding it as neat and tidy as he expected. It was a far cry from the disheveled, filthy shack where he’d grown up. His mother had never been around much. When she was, it was only to sleep off the most recent hangover. Nate had been responsible for all the handyman jobs he could manage and for tidying up the place. There was only so much you could do with a drafty old shanty that should have been condemned during the Dust Bowl days.
Nate wondered if the kid named Chad who came calling at the back door hailed from a similar background. Probably.
Nate halted abruptly at the door that was filled with Katy’s soft scent, then studied her bedroom. Vivid images leaped to mind; he wondered how the two of them would look cozied up in that priceless antique four-poster bed, improving on those intimate secrets they had shared in the back seat of his car.
Those stolen moments had been indelibly etched in Nate’s memory. Despite his bad reputation, his first experience with sex had been Katy’s first experience. He hadn’t known what the hell he was doing, only that his feelings for her demanded to be communicated physically, emotionally.
To this day Nate could still remember how sweetly and trustingly she had responded to him. And he wished with all his heart that he and Katy could have spent the past decade learning all the intimate ways of pleasuring each other. Instead, Katy had been used, abused and treated so abominably that she had lost faith in men, in herself.
The thought caused Nate to grind his teeth until he practically wore off the enamel. He clenched his fist, wishing he could retaliate against the men who had brought Katy such pain. Judge Bates and Brad Butler should consider themselves extremely fortunate they were dead, because Nate would have gladly reverted to his old habits and beat the living hell out of them.
Chapter Four
“Something wrong?” Katy guessed when Nate stared silently at her bedroom.
Nate flashed a smile he didn’t feel. “I was just thinking how I used to sit in my car and stare up at the lights in your bedroom window. You must have spent most of your time up here. Either that or you didn’t need to worry about conserving on the electric bills the way I did.”
“This was my haven,” she admitted quietly. “I only went downstairs when it was time for one of Dad’s many lectures.”
Katy was amazed how easily she had slipped back into confiding in Nate. For years she had kept her own counsel. But when Nate arrived to stroll down memory lane it seemed only natural to tell him about those difficult years with her tyrannical father. She always wondered, if her mother hadn’t died shortly after childbirth, if Victoria Bates would have served as a buffer and go-between for Katy and James, if things had turned out differently…As it was, the judge had handed down his decrees and sentences to his children the same way he delivered legal rulings from the bench. The man had never been able to separate his personal and professional lives.
“Come on, Kat. I’ve seen your place, now I would like to show you mine.”
When Nate reached for her hand, Katy reflexively withdrew. And felt like a fool. Although she expected to see a look of confusion or sympathy on Nate’s face, he merely smiled and patiently held out his hand a second time.
“Still the best of friends?” he asked softly. “I would like to have two allies in this town. Sheriff Havern is one. I would very much like for you to be the other, Katy.”
Katy stared at his long, lean fingers. She hadn’t liked to be touched, had avoided contact every chance she got. The remembered pain and humiliation had taught her to keep her distance from men. In years past a touch had become an insulting grope, a slapping reprimand for disobedience, then blessed oblivion from the pain.
Suddenly, Katy remembered what Nate had told her the first day he returned to Coyote Flats. He had reminded her that he had never hurt her, that he would never hurt her. Could she trust him to keep his word when the other men in her life hadn’t?
Hesitantly, she slipped her hand into his, though she couldn’t quite meet his gaze. Her heart bled when he brought her hand to his lips and grazed her knuckles with a kiss. The old Katy would have pressed up on tiptoe, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. The new Katy didn’t dare take initiative, because old habits died hard.
“Thanks, Katy, you’ll never know how badly I needed to do that. Just touch you, I mean.”
Gently, Nate squeezed her clammy hand. He could tell she was self-conscious, wary and nervous as hell. Already, he was moving so slowly and cautiously with her that it nearly killed him. But if slow and cautious were the only ways of drawing Katy from her self-imposed shell, then he would damned well inch along like a snail.
Never in his life had he expected to count his progress in inches. But hey, even a snail got somewhere—eventually—Nate reminded himself.
Hand in hand, Nate and Katy strode down the hall. Nate was careful not to pull her behind him, because he suspected that bastard she’d married had pulled and dragged her around constantly. Nate made damned sure he and Katy remained on equal footing.
“I’m anxious for you to see my house,” Nate continued on the way down the steps. “I built it on the same spot where the shack used to sit. It seemed symbolic and necessary to erect my future on the ashes of the past.”
She slipped her hand from his, then limped toward the kitchen. “Maybe I can come out some other time, Nate. I have to deliver the casserole and pick up Tammy from school.”
“I’d be glad to drive you.” Nate flashed what he hoped was his most engaging grin. “Surely you aren’t going to deprive me of the chance of seeing Skinny Alice again, are you? A real knockout these days, you say?”
It came again. A smile—one shade brighter than the first. Still, though, it didn’t reach Katy’s eyes and make them sparkle with the inner spirit he remembered from the old days. But when a man was counting his progress in quarter-inch increments, he took what he got and was glad of it.
Katy knew it was a mistake to allow herself to associate with Nate, even for a few hours. They were too different these days, and she had nothing to offer except limited friendship. But darn, it was hard to say no to that charming grin, to the incredibly handsome man who appealed to her on so many levels. The fact that she was still impossibly attracted to Nate assured Katy that not all her emotions were frozen solid. She simply couldn’t resist that compelling field around him that offered strength, comfort and pleasure.
“You and Tammy can stay for supper,” Nate invited. “Fuzz would love the company. He spent so many years cruising around all by his lonesome in the patrol car that he’s practically talked my ears off since he moved in with me.”
“So the rumor circulating around town is true? Fuzz does live with you?”
Nate nodded. “Yep, I designed the house to accommodate him. It is my way of repaying him for giving me a second chance, though I had to promise not to make contact with you or anyone else after I left. Otherwise, I would face punishment at the judge’s hands.”
Katy flinched. Her father had gone to extremes to ensure that she had no future contact with the young man she had fallen hopelessly in love with at the tender age of sixteen. Dave Bates had known how to break her spirit and bend her to his will. He had taken away the only person who meant something to Katy. Her father had made Nate disappear and left her with no hope of his return.
Katy shoved aside the bitter thoughts to inform Nate of what he was up against in town. “According to Lester Brown, you moved the former sheriff in with you so you would have good connections, in case you ran into trouble with the law during your drug dealings.”
Nate blinked in surprise. “That’s the scuttlebutt in town? Well hell, Lester doesn’t miss a trick, does he?”