Whirlwind Wedding by Debra Cowan Page A

against me.” She didn’t want to recall the pleasant warmth that had spread through her after the initial jolt of panic. His entire body had hardened against her. As he was clad only in his lightweight drawers, Catherine had been keenly aware of his body’s reaction. Every rigid inch of it.
    â€œWhile I appreciate that you would protect me, I think bringing in the gun was ill-advised.”
    â€œDon’t fret,” Andrew grumbled. “I didn’t shoot him. Yet.”
    She cut him a sharp look. “What does that mean?”
    â€œI don’t like him being here.”
    â€œI don’t believe he’s a threat to us. And his injuries are too severe for him to leave, so we’ll just have to make the best of it.” She didn’t know how to handle Andrew or his apparent willingness to take a human life. “You could’ve hurt someone. It seemed so easy for you to threaten the man.”
    â€œHe was threatening you. Wasn’t he?”
    â€œNo.” Her denial sounded weak. “I don’t think so.” With some distance between her and the Ranger now, she didn’t believe he would have assaulted her. But he did dissolve her peace of mind. She was not going to explain to a twelve-year-old boy about the violent episode she’d experienced all those months ago.
    â€œI know how to use the gun, Catherine. I can help you if I ever need to.”
    â€œI know. Thank you.” She turned down the sheet and motioned him into bed.
    She wanted to kiss him good-night, but the scowl on his moonlit face told her it wouldn’t be welcome. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    â€œGood night,” he muttered.
    When she reached his door, she turned. “I do thank you, Andrew. I’m glad to know we can depend on each other.”
    â€œYeah.”
    She closed his door, still jarred over the appalling sight of her brother holding a gun on someone. A Texas Ranger. Her patient. A guest in their home.
    What had roused Andrew’s protective instincts? Since the lieutenant’s arrival, her brother had kept closer to home, but she hadn’t realized it until now.
    â€œIs he all right?”
    Catherine started at the sound of Jericho’s voice coming from her bedroom. She didn’t want to go back in there. The giddy flutter in her stomach told her that would be asking for trouble.
    But she couldn’t ignore him, either. She walked the few steps to the doorway. The lamp on the bedside table had been lit, and filmy light washed over his bare chest. He sat on the edge of her bed. “Yes, I think so. I do apologize for him.”
    â€œThere’s no need. He did the right thing.”
    The sight of Jericho’s muscles brought home to Catherine how he really could have hurt her. She wrapped her arms around her waist to ward off the resulting chill. “I’m not certain I agree.”
    â€œOut here he may have cause to protect himself or you. It’s good he knows how,” Jericho said quietly. “Where did Andrew learn to handle that gun, anyway?”
    â€œI’m not sure.”
    â€œHave you ever seen him use one before?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWho do you think taught him to use it?”
    â€œMy mother, maybe? I don’t know. Why are you asking so many questions?”
    â€œHe did have a gun trained on me,” Jericho said lightly.
    Catherine studied him, not sure if her lingering unease was due to seeing Andrew with the gun or the strange warmth that had moved through her when Jericho Blue’s body had pressed against hers. That warmth stirred her even now. “I think he would’ve shot you!”
    â€œI do, too, if I’d been a real threat.” In the soft light, his gaze held hers. “Which I wasn’t.”
    Perhaps he didn’t think so, but for those long seconds she had.
    â€œI would never hurt you, Catherine. Certainly not after you saved my