She held up her hand, knocking his away. “I don’t need you.”
“Sorry. You looked like you were going to faint.”
She squared her shoulders and looked down her nose at him. “Kemps don’t faint.” Even though she tried hard to look strong, her words shook, belying her tough stance.
As stubborn and beautiful as ever.
Seeing her made his chest ache. Wade forced himself to look away. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I have a riding lesson to teach. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Don’t you have better things to do in town?”
“I can’t imagine anything better than teaching disabled children to ride, can you?”
He smiled and brushed a hand along her cheek. As soon as he felt the smoothness of her skin, he regretted reaching out to her. But he couldn’t help himself. “Always taking care of people, aren’t you?”
“Yes. You got a problem with that?” She knocked his hand away again. “I take my work seriously.”
He’d expected her to be a full-time assistant for her husband, the good Dr. Murphy. He’d counted on it and could kick himself for his automatic response to her nearness, his desire to hold her, touch her, feel her lips against his.
Lindsay Kemp’s face had been what kept him alive throughout his captivity, what gave him the will to take the next breath. Even though he knew she’d married, that they could never be together, he’d lived to see her face again. “I would have thought you’d be working with the doctor now.”
Her auburn brows wrinkled. “Why would you think that?
“I didn’t think you’d still be working out here.” And if she worked at the Long K Ranch on a regular basis, his mission would be in jeopardy—his focus compromised. “What does your husband think of you coming out here?”
Her brows sank deeper over her eyes. “Husband?” Then her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I’m not married to Cal Murphy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Wade stepped back, his heart skipping several beats before it slammed into his rib cage at a million beats per minute. “Not married? But I thought…”
“If you’d bothered to keep in touch, you’d have known that. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She pushed around him, hurrying toward the saddle racks where she selected a child’s saddle and flung it over her shoulder.
As if he’d just been punched in the gut, Wade stood rooted to the barn floor struggling to remember how to breathe. “What happened? Last time I was here, you were engaged.”
“It didn’t happen.” She marched toward the barn door, her gaze fully averted from him, she refused to meet his eyes.
Stunned by her revelation, it took Wade several seconds to come to grips. He sprang forward, blocking her exit. “Why?”
She stared up into his eyes. “Not because of you, if that’s what you think.”
He let the breath out that he’d been holding, slowly so that she couldn’t tell how much her answer had meant to him, and how much it hurt. “Let me help you.” He reached for the saddle, lifting it effortlessly.
“I don’t need help.” She jerked away, her face flaming a dull red. “I’ve managed on my own for years.”
“I know you don’t need help, but I work here now. Let me do my job.”
“As for that…we’ll see.” She clutched the bridle to her chest with one hand and yanked the saddle from his hands with the other. “In the meantime, don’t bother to unpack. I want to talk to my grandfather first.”
Lindsay marched out of the barn, her head held high like a queen.
With every ounce of his strength he fought to keep from following her, dragging her into his arms and kissing her so thoroughly that she’d forget all about Cal Murphy and the five years he’d been away.
Snickering from the stall behind him made Wade come to his senses faster than his own ability to talk himself down. Until that moment, he’d completely forgotten the man named Frank was still in the same barn with him.
Frank stood leaning on his pitchfork a smirk curling one side of his mouth. “She isn’t any more interested in you than she is me.”
“Shut up, Frank.” Wade stalked to the pile of feed sacks stacked inside the barn door and slung one over his shoulder. Flinging a fifty-pound bag of feed did nothing toward slowing his heart rate or reining in the rampant thoughts racing through his head. And Frank’s smirking attitude just made him want to hit someone.
Lindsay wasn’t married to Cal Murphy.
Wade ripped open the bag and poured sweet feed into one of the feed bins. Back at the stack of feed bags, he hefted another onto his shoulder.
Why hadn’t she married Cal? Was she still living at the Long K Ranch?
One question after another rolled over in his mind until they began repeating themselves.
He’d come to Freedom, Texas, fully expecting to find Lindsay Kemp married and gone from the ranch. If he’d known she was still here, he never would have agreed to go undercover to expose her grandfather.
At that moment he couldn’t get past the one truth.
Lindsay Kemp wasn’t married.
He dumped the last bag of feed into the bin and straightened.
Frank stood looking at him, still leaning on the pitchfork.
Wade glared at Frank. “Gets done quicker if you actually work at it.”
“What do you care? She’ll have you out of here so fast you won’t know what hit you.”
Not if I can help it. With his jaw set, his fingers clenched, Wade strode out of the barn and directly to the big house. He had to talk to Henry Kemp before Lindsay got back to him.
FIVE-YEAR-OLD Zachary ran around in circles, stopping every two or three spins to gather rocks from the ground and line them up in a neat row. He still held the sugar cube clenched in his fist.
Lindsay smiled. Stacy had her hands full with Zachary. Twins were difficult at times, but an energetic autistic child had to be even harder to cope with.
“Zachary, why don’t you feed Whiskers his sugar cube?” Lindsay suggested.
The boy immediately stopped running and held out his hand with the damp lump of sugar.
Whiskers plucked it from his palm with his big, velvety lips.
Zachary giggled and pulled his hand back, wiping it against the side of his jeans.
Lindsay tossed a blanket on the horse and settled the saddle in place over it.
“Who’s
