He smiled slowly, tilted back his plumed hat and shook his head. "No, Kristin," he said softly. His low, grating voice sent tremors up her spine. "I never renege on a deal. But I'll be damned if I'm going to stick around so you can run off and be swept away beneath my very nose."
"But I —"
"Forget it, Kristin. I warned you. We play by my rules. And you're not riding out anywhere."
"But —"
"You ride out, I ride out."
"But… but you've already been… paid!" Kristin exploded.
His brows shot up, and his lips curled mockingly. "Paid?"
"You know what I mean."
He shook his head. "I sure as hell don't! That was it? One night in your arms and I'm supposed to gladly lay down my life and die?"
"You are no Southern gentleman."
"Did I say I was?"
"You are no gentleman at all!"
"I never claimed to be one, Kristin. In fact, I haven't made any claims to you at all. Remember that."
"I find it difficult to forget."
"Are you trying to renege?" he queried softly.
She drew herself up stiffly, determined to counter-attack. "So you're not from the South?"
"Does it matter where I'm from?" Maybe it does!"
He caught her hand and held it. They stared at one another. Behind them, the massive black stallion snorted. Cole stared at her seriously for a long moment and then said, "No, it doesn't, Kristin. Nothing about me matters at all. No questions. No involvement. Remember that."
She jerked her hand away. "I'll remember, Mr. Slater."
She started toward Debutante's stall. Maybe she couldn't go riding, but she had to get away. She would take a moment to stroke the mare's velvet nose, and then she would escape. She didn't know how she would be able to bear it, though. She would be like a caged animal with all the emotions that were playing havoc in her heart.
She patted Debutante's nose and promised the horse in a low whisper that she would come out and give her a good grooming as soon as he was out of the stable.
Then she turned around, determined to walk out of the stables with her head held high, determined to hang on to her few remaining shreds of dignity.
"By the way, Kristin…" he began.
She paused, her back to him. She straightened, stiffening her shoulders, and turned in a swift circle. He wasn't watching her. He was combing the stallion's shining flanks.
"Why don't you move your things into the larger bedroom? We'll have more space there."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"But — but everyone will know! And just how many times do you intend to… to…"
"Get paid?" he suggested politely. He didn't even seem to be paying attention to her. He stroked the stallion's ears, then stared directly at her. "You want blood, Kristin. That's an expensive commodity. And as far as everyone knowing is concerned, that's exactly what I want."
"But —"
"I make the rules, remember?"
"I can't! I can't go by this one —"
"Delilah will understand. So will Shannon and Sam and Pete and everyone else. And if Zeke Moreau hears anything about it, he'll get the message, too."
"But —"
"Do it, Kristin."
She spun around in a dead fury again. She didn't look back. She stormed into the house, wishing desperately that she were a man. She would run away and join the army in two seconds.
She wouldn't even give a damn whose army she joined. Just as long as it was someone who hated Quantrill and his animals.
"Kristin, that you?" Delilah came into the hallway, smiling. "Want to give us a hand with the wax? I could surely use some help stirring. I've got Shannon jarring and sealing while J've been kneading the bread."
"Er… of course," Kristin said. She'd much, much rather run away and join the army.
Shannon gave her a bright smile when she came into the kitchen. "Did you find Cole?"
"Yes. I found him."
Shannon nodded. It was obvious that she approved of it all. They were all mad, Kristin decided.
"He wants me to move into Pa's bedroom with him," she blurted out.
Shannon had been holding a jar of jam, sealing it with wax. The jar slipped from her fingers and shattered loudly on the floor.
Delilah sent the bread she was kneading into the air. It fell back on the block table.
Both of them stared at her. Then they glanced at one another. Neither of them said a word.
"Say something!" Kristin demanded. "Help me make some kind of a decision!"
"You can't!" Shannon gasped.
"Seems to me like you've already made your decision," Delilah said softly. "But it ain't right. It just ain't right. Still…"
"He's much, much better than Zeke Moreau," Shannon said. She stooped to pick up the broken glass and the jam that was seeping into the floorboards. "Yes, maybe you have to. And he is much better than Zeke."
"So that's why I'm sleeping with a stranger." Kristin sank into a chair before the fire. "I cannot believe I'm doing this," she murmured.
"These are different times," Shannon murmured, staring at the floor. She looked up at her sister. "Kristin, we can't be blind to the facts! We need him. We need him, or else we just have to give up and pull out."
"Shannon!" Kristin exploded. "You're shocked, and you know it. Pa must be turning in his grave. We don't even know where Cole Slater comes from!"
Shannon's beautiful blue eyes widened. "But of course we do, Kristin."
"What?"
Shannon smiled broadly. "He's from Missouri. He was originally from Virginia, but his family bought a big spread out here. I think he comes from tobacco money, a lot of it. He went to West Point. He was in the same class as Jeb Stuart!"
Kristin stared at her sister, who appeared about to swoon. Shannon thought that the Confederate general Jeb Stuart was the handsomest, most gallant gentleman in the whole world. Shannon's reaction to Stuart's name didn't surprise her, but the fact that she seemed to know so much about Cole stunned her.
"What?" she repeated numbly.
Shannon sighed with supreme patience, as if she were the elder, explaining things to a sullen child.
"He's a Virginian, Kristin, moved to Missouri. He went to West Point. Once upon a time he was in the army in Kansas. He and Stuart served together."
"Wonderful," Kristin murmured.
So he was a Southerner. And he wasn't in uniform. He was one of them, one of the breed that ran with Quantrill…
She was a Southerner herself, she thought dully. Not all Southerners were like Zeke Moreau.
But Cole…
Cole had talked freely to Shannon. But the questions hadn't all been answered yet.
He had gone to West Point. He had served in the Union Army before the war with the gallant Southern cavalry officer, Jeb Stuart.
But he wasn't wearing a uniform now. Not the Union's, and not the Confederacy's. Why not?
Delilah stirred something over the fire. She wiped her hands on her apron. "Well, Kristin? What do we do? If you want, I'll go move your things."
Kristin swallowed. She wanted to protest. She wanted to refuse Cole Slater.
She looked at Delilah. Delilah wasn't making any judgments.
Kristin nodded. She could give up the place or she could hold tight to Cole Slater. She really had no choice. But she vowed to herself that she'd find out everything there was to know about the man.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kristin spent the day worrying about the night ahead. She prowled around upstairs, trying to keep busy. Though she hated it, she did what Cole had told her to, taking a few of her dresses and nightshirts and putting them in the armoire in her parents' bedroom.
Shannon came upstairs while she was at it. There was something about her knowing glance that made Kristin feel terribly ashamed. "Cole — Mr. Slater — thinks that Zeke ought to think there's something… um, that he and I, that…"