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Logan gave her high marks for recovery. "Your uncle called me."
Eyes blazing with hurt and anger, she looked past hint to her uncle. "How
could you do that? You gave me your word you wouldn't tell him. I trusted
you!"
"You're my wife, Cat. I have a right to know."
"But nothing happened. Do you hear? Nothing happened," she insisted as Cullev
slipped back outside.
"I'll be the judge of that. Why don't we go over here and sit down, and you
can tell me how it happened," Logan suggested, deliberately letting her
believe that he knew more than he did.
"Look, I don't want to talk about it. I just want to put it out of my mind and
forget that Lath was ever here."
Lath. Of all the possibilities that had occurred to him, Lath Anderson wasn't
one of them. An anger, black and cold and ugly, welled up. Logan had to work
to keep it from showing.
"What time was this?" Such minor details were always easier for a victim to
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supply. And each answer opened the gate a little more until the whole story
flooded from them.
"Some time shortly after three. I'd gone in the kitchen to get the roast ready
for supper-"She stopped abruptly, a hand flying to her mouth. "I forgot to put
the roast in the oven. It's still sitting on the counter."
"We won't worry about supper right now." Logan placed a hand on her back,
keeping its touch light and impersonal while he walked her to the big easy
chair by the fireplacr. "So you were in the kitchen when Lath came?"
"Yes. Look, do we have to go over all this?" As he had expected, she sank into
the chair in agitation. "All he did was grab me, okay?" When Logan said
nothing, she went on. "It was my fault anyway. If I hadn't left the stupid
doors propped open, he wouldn't have been able to just walk in without me
knowing it."
"You propped the doors open when you were carrying your things into the house,
right?" Logan sat on the large ottoman, keeping his distance from her with an
effort.
"Yes. It made it a lot easier than trying to open the doors with your arms
full. After Dad and the boys left, I went out to close them, but the phone
rang. I went to answer it. Afterward I ... I just forgot about the doors."
"Who called?" He watched her expression.
"Nobody. Or, at least, whoever it was, hung up when they realized they had the
wrong number." Cat lifted her head, a sudden thought dawning in her eyes. "You
don't suppose-" "Suppose what?"
"That it could have been Lath calling to see if I was here? He said he'd heard
that we were married, but he had to see it with his own eyes. Do you think it
was him?"
"It's possible. What else did he say?"
Piece by piece, Logan drew the information from her until the whole story came
in a rush. Listening to it, Logan knew he had felt anger before, but nothing
like this, nothing like this savage rage. Despite his attempt to maintain a
dispassionate facade, some of it must have shown.
"I'm not going to press charges, Logan," Cat stated, her chin jutting at an
assertive angle.
But he looked at the shimmer of tears in her green eyes. "He assaulted you,
Cat."
"That won't be his story. Or have you forgotten that I had a knife? That I
threatened him with it? All he has to say is that he was trying to take it
away from me, that he was defending himself-not the other way around. And how
can I prove differently? Look." She pushed the sleeve back on her robe,
showing him her wrist and arm. "I don't have a single bruise."
"Anderson has a record-"
"Which wouldn't be admissible. And please don't suggest that Culley could
testify on my behalf. You know as well as I do, they'd bring up all those
years he spent under psychiatric care, and completely destroy his credibility
as a witness. Not to mention what his lawyer would try to do to my reputation.
No." Cat stood up. "I'm not going to file any charges. That's final."
"All right." He placed his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet, a part
of him knowing too well that she was right in thinking she would be on trial
as well.
A pickup truck with a horse trailer in tow rumbled into the yard. Hearing it,
Cat wiped a quick hand over her eyes, wiping
away any trace of tears. "That's Dad and Quint" She turned to Logan. "I don't
want them to know about this. It would be pointless."
"He's your father," Logan reminded her.
"Yes, but there's nothing he can do. It would only upset him."
On that, he had to agree. There was nothing either of them could do. At least,
not legally. His arm brushed against the holstered gun at his hip as he took a
step toward her.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The need to keep his distance from Cat no longer existed now that Logan had
gotten the full story from her. The tight fold of her arms and the cleansing
rub of her hands over them told Logan that she had yet to rid herself
completely of the feel of Lath's touch. He needed to change that. For her and
for himself.
"I'm sorry, Cat." His hands settled lightly, high on her arms, exerting no
pressure. She stiffened in instant resistance, her eyes flashing to his face.
He held them. "I meant for you to feel safe in this house."
A small, barely perceptible tremor quivered through her, taking away her
stiffness. Her glance strayed to his shirtfront as she wavered, a broken look
in her eyes. Recognizing that it was all the invitation she could give, Logan [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]