Free Solitaire by Lindsay McKenna Page A

my arm and nose. Rafe got the belt on his behind. I would’ve gotten a licking, too, if I hadn’t gotten broken bones.”
    Savoring the hot liquid before he spoke, Slade commented, “You can still take that basic premise about yourself and apply it like a formula to any other type of situation. No, there’s a basic vein of courage in you. I like that.”
    Cat warmed beneath Slade’s compliment; the obvious pleasure in his voice was like a physical caress. She rarely enjoyed men in the field. But she wasn’t in the field; her contract assignment had been delayed because of her injury. Cat’s brows dipped.
    “What’s bothering you?” Slade asked.
    “Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking that because of this accident, I’ve blown my next assignment.” She had talked briefly to Ian Connors, the man who had hired her. Technically, because of her unexpected injuries, she didn’t have to honor the contract. Cat had managed to hold off giving him an answer on whether she’d fulfill the contract or not. Just the bare thought of entering another mine made her break into a cold sweat.
    “In Australia?”
    “Yes. A two-year contract.”
    “You needed a vacation anyway, Cat.”
    He was right. She hadn’t walked away from work for five years now. “Work is play for me,” she tried without enthusiasm. How could one mine cave-in turn her lifelong love into a terrorizing nightmare she never wanted to experience again?
    “Still, we all need time away, Cat.”
    “Do you?” Cat asked, trying to deflect talk of her going back to work. Specifically, into a mine.
    “Sure, I’m only human. I can stand the jungle or being a sand rat for only so long and then I have to get back to civilization and get human again.”
    “Are you between assignments?”
    “Yeah. I was heading home to Texas for a couple of months.”
    “How long since you were home?”
    “One year. I think you’ll like Mourning Dove. For west Texas, it’s a nice spot.”
    “A lot of sand, scrub brush, jackrabbit and deer?”
    “That, too.”
    “Tell me about the ranch. Is it a working one?”
    “Not anymore. I’ve more or less created a deer preserve out of it and sold off all the cattle. I have a Mexican family who lives nearby who takes care of it during my absences. Carlos and his wife, Pilar, are the caretakers.” His voice grew warmer. “Pilar is the best cook this side of the Mexican border. I can hardly wait to get home and fatten up on her cooking.” He patted his hard, lean stomach meaningfully.
    Cat understood; she was underweight as well. Perhaps the Mourning Dove Ranch wasn’t going to be all that bad after all. Slade wasn’t the womanizer she had first thought. As a matter of fact, she was going to have to reevaluate many things about Slade. Cat couldn’t apply her earlier experiences to him because he didn’t fit into the categories of men she had known before. She slid him a warm look.
    “Has anyone ever accused you of being different?”
    Slade laughed solidly, flipped a switch to take the plane off autopilot and resumed the task of flying. “Many times. Why? Does it bother you?”
    “You are a bit disconcerting.” And disturbing. Every movement he made reminded Cat that Slade was a consummate athlete; there was never a wasted motion and he had a coordination that at times took her breath away.
    “But not threatening?”
    She paused a moment before answering, “No.”
    “What took you so long to answer my question?”
    Cat refused to be baited by him. “Nothing.”
    “You were trying to decide whether to be wary of me or not, weren’t you?”
    “Quit being such a know-it-all.”
    “Your brother, Rafe, spoke a lot about you.” He added in a gentler voice, “Good things. How you love the land and the animals. How easily you were moved by a sunset. Or by a foal being born. I like my woman to be easily touched by everything around her.”
    A tremor vibrated through her and Cat discreetly did not ask what Slade meant when he