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“You can’t have everything you want,” he told her.
Her shoulders sagged and she swayed toward him, nestling her head on his shoulder. After a long moment his arms went around her and he let his mouth come against the woolen cap covering her black silk hair.
“I don’t want everything, Repp. I just want you,” she said very simply without any dramatic elaboration. “Sometimes I just get to feeling desperate. Two years seems such a long time to wait.” It seemed an agony of time.
“They’ll go by fast,” he lied. Something clanged outside in the hangar, and Repp stiffened. “Did you hear that?”
“What?” She lifted her head from the comfortable and intimate pillow of his shoulder.
“I think I heard somebody outside,” he murmured and began untangling his arms from around her. “I’m going to check.”
“There’s no one out there,” Cat protested. “You probably just heard the wind rattling the tin roof.”
He ignored her explanation to glide silently to the office door. “Wait here,” he whispered.
“No. I’m coming with you,” she insisted. She spoke louder than she intended and it carried through the door Repp had opened.
“Sssh,” he warned.
Cat kept a hand on him so she wouldn’t lose contact as they stole out of the office into the darkened shed. A coyote wailed a lonely call from some distant hillside. A haze of stars barely cast enough light to make silhouettes of the planes hangared in the shed. Repp picked his way through the shadows, looking and listening.
Another faint sound came to them, unidentifiable. It seemed to have come from one of the ranch planes, the one Cat’s father usually flew. They moved up alongside it.
“There.” Cat pointed at the access door to the engine compartment. It was open. “It must not have been latched properly and the wind blew it open.”
“I guess so.” He left her to shut the door and make sure the latch caught. When he came back, he looked around, not completely satisfied, instinct telling him someone else had been in the hangar or was there still. He started worrying about Cat. “It’s late, nearly midnight. You’d better go back. FU walk you partway.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me, Cat.” His voice was firm, but he couldn’t say why he felt this sudden urgency to get her safely away from there.
Something in his tone checked any further argument from Cat. His hand gripped her elbow to guide her out of the shed and across the short stretch to the knoll where The Homestead sat, its white exterior rising from the darkness.
After he’d left her, Repp couldn’t explain what made him double back, taking a roundabout route. Halfway to the hangar, the wind carried to him the sound of hoofbeats. Briefly a rider was skylined on a crest against a dusting of haze stars. O’Rourke. It had to be. The bunkhouse gossip was full of talk about his restless wanderings over the Triple C. Even if he was Cat’s uncle, the man gave him the willies. But at least his suspicions were satisfied. Repp turned and headed for the bunkhouse.
As Ty made the turn onto the driveway by the front steps, he saw a figure dart into the shadows of the house and recognized the white knitted cap. It didn’t take much guessing to know where his sister had been and with whom. He didn’t say anything until he was on the wide porch that ran the width of the front.
“There’s no point in hiding, Cat. I already know you’re there,” he said quietly and heard a rustle of movement as she emerged from the shadows to haul herself onto the porch. “Sneaking off to meet Repp again? You’re going to get caught one of these nights.”
“Dad’s too old-fashioned and too strict,” she said with a resentful flash of her green eyes.
“You’ll think he’s too strict if he finds you going behind his back,” Ty warned, but he wasn’t really in the mood to be stern with her himself, so he let the matter lie. There were too many other things on his mind. He held the front door open for Cat to enter ahead of him, then walked in. “Looks like someone left a light on in the den.” He started across the foyer.
“I think Stricklin is in there,” Cat said, but she altered her course to accompany him and find out.
A book was opened and lying facedown on the armrest of the chair where Stricklin was seated. He had a pocket knife out and was meticulously cleaning beneath his nails. When Ty appeared in the doorway, he looked up with mild interest.
“Hello, TV, are you just getting in?” Then the expressionless blue eyes looked past him. “I didn’t realize Cathleen was with you.”
“Yes. We have a brood mare that’s due to foal,” he said dryly, aware he was providing a mutual alibi. “I hope we didn’t disturb you.”
“Not at all,” Stricklin assured him.
“Good night.” Ty moved out of the doorway and headed for the stairs with Cat tagging along.
“That man is strange,” she murmured.
“Why?” Ty was used to Stricklin’s detached attitude.
