by Jillian Hart
"The deputy sure thought you looked familiar." She tilted her head, looking up at him through her long, curling eyelashes. "That was strange. Do you know him from somewhere?"
"I'm not telling. That leaves you to guess." He tried to keep his voice light, but the weight of the past, the hurt of it descended like midnight on his heart. He'd hoped he could escape it. There was no reason to think he couldn't. Likely the deputy would be too busy doing his job to think about long ago. "I don't think about my past."
"Is it too painful?" Compassion glinted like gold in her hazel eyes.
"We'll keep it a mystery. That makes it more interesting than it really is."
"You're just a plain regular horseman, are you?"
"Something like that. Some things hurt too much, and it was ages ago. Water under the bridge. I never did anything wrong."
"I believe that." She laid her soft, slender hand on his. A current of feeling rose up in him to drown him. He was lost, unable to surface from the powerful tenderness he felt for her. The scorching heat of her touch burned through his sleeve, sparkling little fires of need in him.
He ached for the right to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless, until she begged for more. What was wrong with him?
"Okay, you win. We won't discuss the past," she said. "Right now is all that matters. Too be honest, the present, this very minute, is all we really have anyway."
"True," he choked out.
She yearned to be closer to him, unable to stop the urgent need guiding her to step closer to him. She dared to lay the palm of her free hand on his chest, above his heart. She let her gaze sink into his and simply feel. To feel the tenderness for him within.
It was him she saw. The old scars over the wounds he wanted to hide. She recognized the feeling of long-term loneliness deep in his soul.
He had an unbearable wound there, but it hadn't embittered him, it hadn't changed his heart. As they stood breathless looking into one another, she could feel him right there, lodged in her heart. When his pulse skipped a beat, hers did, as well.
The world seemed to disappear, the entire town faded away, and all she could feel or be aware of was their hearts beating together. His pupils dilated, and his mouth slanted above hers for a brief minute as if he expected her to stop him.
Not a chance of that. She felt captivated, frozen in place, enchanted as his lips covered hers, soft as a dream, as bright as the sun.
What a kiss. She surrendered to him, overwhelmed by the heated brush and stroke of his kiss. She fisted her hands in his shirt, lost in the fiery heat and caress of his kiss. He kissed her as if she were the best woman on earth, and as if he never wanted their kiss to end.
When he broke away, passion glazed his eyes and, breathless, he tugged her against his chest and held her as if she were infinitely precious to him.
Wow, she thought, what a kiss, what a thing to be, so precious. His heartbeat thudded slow and steady and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment. She never wanted to let go.
As if he felt it, too, he held her tight.
This is a dream too, she thought, because she never expected anything like this.
This closeness, this radiant tenderness, was too much to bear. She could not deny her feelings for him now, not even to herself.
"Oh, there you are!" A familiar voice had her stepping away from his chest in the same startled moment he released her. Samantha crossed the street. "I still can't find just the right gift for our mother. She is the hardest woman to shop for. She has everything."
"It's her birthday next month." Skye heard the odd, strained note in her voice. She didn't sound normal to herself.
She might never feel normal again.
"I'll leave you two ladies to shop," Brennan tipped his hat to her and strode away. Probably with no idea that he'd taken more than a little piece of her heart.
Although she tried, she couldn't think of anything else but the man's kiss. Not hours later as she was sharing supper with her sister in their pleasant dining room. Even later than that, as she watched the sunset creep across the growing plains and foothills, she felt his presence like the sun on her face.
No matter how much time or distance passed between them, the closeness of that moment, that exquisite kiss, remained. He'd filled a place in her heart, and the glowing of it outshone everything.
Did he feel this way, too?
* * *
"Okay, boys!" The federal marshall's shout penetrated the night. "Let's get him inside and locked up."
Brennan lifted his head off the board floor of the paddy wagon and blinked against the flare of lightning. For a brief instant, the flash of light gave a glimpse of hatred-filled eyes of the man approaching the barred door, iron key in hand.
He was innocent, but that didn't stop the rain from pouring, the grim uncaring comments of the lawman surrounding him or the glint of lamplight from the federal prison's door opening. For him.
The key rattled in the lock and it clicked open. The hinges squealed. Terror rocked through him. He felt a yank on the chains banding his wrists and ankles, pain fired through him as he was yanked out into the rain.
He hit the ground with bone-bruising force. He lay flat on his back, gasping for breath. Desperate, he couldn't draw in anything more than rainwater and a trickle of air.
Gasping, Brennan bolted awake. He sat up in the dark room, not recognizing where he was at first, blinking, fear in his heart and with the memory of losing his freedom beating in his chest.
He hung his head. He might never get over the feel of that cell, those iron bars and stone walls closing in on him.
Brennan rolled onto his side, pushed off the soft mattress and dragged in a deep breath. The ice of the nightmare clung to him. There was no use trying to sleep. He grabbed his gun belt, strapped it on and slipped outside.
Cool night air met him. He stepped out beneath the gleaming stars, glad for the wide open landscape, peace and freedom.
He breathed in the fresh, grass-scented air and appreciated the song of the wind playing through the grass. Somewhere an owl hooted. He sensed nothing but calm and headed out to check for any sign of predators or trespassing humans. He crossed the yard, rubbed his eyes and scanned the meadows.
Quiet reigned. He couldn't resist glancing over the stretch of lawn and orchard to Skye's dark house. He thought of her in her upstairs room peacefully asleep with her dark gold eyelashes curled against her cheek, tucked on her side, dreaming of mustangs.
I kissed her. It had to be a big mistake. There was no other way to view it. He hadn't seen her since he'd taken her in his arms. Was she mad at him?
He'd been busy with the new construction, and he couldn't blame her for avoiding him all evening long.
With a sigh, he walked along the shadows of the cottonwood grove, remembering how she'd felt tucked against his chest. She'd watched him in silence from the barn or from the front porch of her home. But that was all.
He rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't know what to say to her. He'd been on his own for so long, he didn't know if he could let anyone in. Even though he wanted to.
He cut through the meadow where his newly constructed fence forced him to circle over to the open, double wide gate.
He stopped to study the rise where he'd seen the tracks, and no one was there. He wasn't surprised. After what he'd spotted in the woods and why he'd gone to town to trail whoever was shadowing her, he wasn't surprised to have run into Judson.
With a bad feeling in his gut, Brennan sat on the crest. He had a good view of the house and the barn. No fresh tracks that he could see. As long as he was wounded and there was a threat against the horse, Brennan had to stay.
Considering he'd kissed her, he'd wager good money that staying wouldn't be easy if Skye turned out to be mad at him.
And leaving would be worse.
Darkness bled from the night. Birds were singing louder as the sky above the eastern horizon eked from black to charcoal gray. A
n owl winged by on his final flight of the night and disappeared in the woods.
He had the strangest feeling of being watched, of a tingle on the back of his neck, and when he turned around Skye stood at the end of the path staring at him.
With her blond hair down and cascading over her shoulders, she made his heart stop. What beauty.
19
He stared down at the grass between his booted feet and did his best to brace himself. It looked like she was heading his way.
"What are you doing up? It's really early." Her light pink calico dress swirled around her willowy form and ample curves as she came closer. "Couldn't you sleep?"
"No." If he met her honest gaze, then he would betray his feelings for her. "I have a lot on my mind."
"So do I." She eased down onto the grass beside him. "I had nightmares since talking with the deputy. I'm afraid of losing Orville or one of my mares."
"That's understandable. I worry, too." He wished he could put his arms around her, but that kiss and the uncertainty of it stood between them.
She blew out a troubled sigh. "After yesterday, I couldn't sleep."
"You love your horses that much?"
"You know that I do, and this place never used to feel so big and isolated. But maybe that's just me being lonely."
"This is about that kiss I stole from you." He broke off a stem of grass and stripped the seeds from it, let them go in the wind. "How mad are you about it?"
"That's hard to say." She snapped off a blade of grass, too, and swirled it. "I've never been kissed before."
"I was your first?" He drew in air, holding his chest very still, very hard, fighting not to feel a thing.
"Yes. Why did you kiss me?"
He bowed his head and fell silent for a moment. He brushed a daisy's petals with his forefinger, waiting until he could trust his voice. "I got carried away. Maybe I was carried away by feeling, too."
"What kind of a feeling?" she asked, fearful of his answer.
Why would he be interested in her? She picked off a few more grass seeds from the stem, listening to the silence stretch between them. The birds grew still.
"It was a caring feeling," he admitted so quietly, that she could hardly hear him.
"Caring?" She blinked hard. The backs of her eyes stung. "Then I guess I'm not upset. Not really."
"That's not what I wanted." He sounded concerned and fell silent for a moment, as if he wasn't used to being so honestly open-hearted. "I did not want to disappoint you. Your first kiss ought to be memorable and with a man you're smitten with."
"That's the problem." She stared out at the open rangeland. Heart pounding, she didn't know if she had the courage to say the truth.
"I'm sorry, pretty lady." He sounded regretful. "I shouldn't have up and kissed you, especially in town like that. I don't think anyone was around to notice, but my feelings got away from me. I have feelings for you."
"That's the best thing I've had happen to me in a long time, that a man as kind as you would care about me. I have to confess that I am sweet on you." There, the truth was out.
"Really? You're a little smitten?" Emotion made his voice rough and his eyes gleam darker than the night. "Are you sure about that? It's showing terribly bad judgement."
"I know. Believe me, I'm as horrified as you are." She gave a self-conscious shrug and hoped that he could hear what she didn't know how to say.
"That's what I am, horrified." His tone was as tender as his kiss. "I might not be the type of man you want to be caught kissing."
"You're not so bad. There are a lot of men worse than you around here." She blushed, her warm quip just as dear as could be. And truly tender. "In truth, you are a very good man, Mr. Mosley, and I'm a tough critic."
"You do look tough, and that's a real compliment." He leaned in closer to her with his midnight-black eyes sincere and with all his shields down. "I trust you, Skye, and I haven't done that in a long while. It isn't easy on me."
"So I see. I'll try not to let you down."
"I already know that, and that's still not easy for me. I'm a loner." He plucked one of the daisies bobbing in the grass and gave it to her. "But I would never hurt you."
"I believe it." She took the wildflower from him, her affection for him shining in her gaze, unwavering. It meant so much, he had to look away.
The meadowlands stretched out all around him, silent and waiting. The light wind barely stirred the grass and trees. The first hint of dawn began to creep up to cling to the eastern rim, turning the horizon hazy gold.
The air filled with reverence as if all of nature awaited the light. The last stars winked out until there were none.
"Oh, look." The that soft haze of a glow before dawn's light seemed to follow her as she rose to her feet. She pointed her slender hand, turning towards the far end of the meadows. "It's the mustangs again."
He stood, captured by the sight of distant horses thundering across the ghostly prairie. Bathed in dark and gray shadows, they chased the last blackness of night, staying ahead of the coming light. "It's your herd."
"Mine? Oh, I do love them. It was love at first sight. There's the black stallion." The pre-dawn breeze rippled through the loose tendrils escaped from her braid. "They are exquisite."
He'd only seen one thing more so.
Her.
She sighed, unaware of his infatuation. "Do you think I'm wrong for wanting to catch them?"
"No. They have hard lives. Look how hard they are fighting to survive." He paused, took a thoughtful moment, before speaking again. "You don't want to dominate them or take away their freedom."
"I just want them to be free in my pastures. I want to take care of them and give them a home."
"That sounds good to me. Then again, I've been wandering from job to job, from place to place, without a real home for over a decade and then some. If I had a chance at a home, I would hold on as hard as I could."
"It's not good to be so alone." She watched the mustangs move like music across the far meadow and slow to a stop. "I would be kind and make sure they never went hungry and always had someone to care."
"You already love them." His arm slipped around her shoulders, rock-hard and hot. "If they are smart, they will risk wandering into that meadow I fenced off. They'd be fortunate to have you."
"And you, too."
Even the mustangs stood quietly, as if to greet the coming sun. Soft lavender-rose light painted them in the colors of first dawn.
Finally, the first golden spears of light arrowed above the horizon, giving color and warmth and sun to the new day. He felt the first ray of gold on his face and a hope inside his heart came into the light.
Hope.
"You're beautiful when you're like this, full of dreams." He pushed a lock of silken, gossamer-soft wisps out of her eyes. She looked as sweet as a daisy and he'd never wanted anything more. "It's gonna be hard not to kiss you again."
"It is?" A smile tilted her mouth upward.
So he leaned in, captivated by her mouth, by the way her lips moved. But instead of stopping and doing the sensible thing, he cradled the back of her head with one hand and locks of her hair fell between his fingers and tickled his knuckles.
Her mouth parted slightly, just a bit, in a hopeful invitation he could not ignore. With his heart kicking wildly, he covered her mouth with his. And this time he kissed her not quietly, not politely, but the way a woman ought to be kissed. So ardently and passionately that she knew how he desired her and how he burned for her. And then more tenderly, so she would know his true feelings.
With a small groan, her hands fisted into his shirt and held on. As if eager for more, she opened up to him, so he obliged and went for a deeper kiss. With a slow sweep of his tongue, she gave another satisfied moan. Lost, that's what he was, in the kiss, a kiss he did not want to stop.
When he ripped his mouth from hers, breathing hard and ragged, he couldn't halt the desire strumming through his bloodstream. So he leaned his forehead ag
ainst hers, so lost in her he was blind to all else. He didn't know where she began and he ended.
"Not too terrible, even for a second kiss." She sparkled up at him, as breathless as he. "This is a memorable moment beyond all doubt."
She undid him. Be smart, Mosley, pull away. But he took her hand instead. He would hold her now, while he could, since giving up his heart was an impossibility. And that's what she wanted. Her brother hadn't said that. Brennan shrugged one shoulder, gazing down at her with reluctant hopes. He'd been a wanderer too long.
Or had he?
And he had that deputy who could remember him perhaps, if given enough time. Or would he? It had been over a lifetime ago and a moment to the deputy. Now, his past might catch up to him after all. He deserved better than that. He deserved a new start.
Sorrow dug in deep. Because he'd had all those plans. To put his gun skills and horse talents to use. To stay long-term. To take up Abe's offer to marry his sensible, practical spinster sister, who was in need of a horseman and a man to love her.
Love, that was going to be easy. But she, just who she was, so dear and precious, would make his heart turn inside out. And that didn't happen every day. He could disappoint her. He could not be the man at heart she longed for him to be. And he could not do that to her.
He was going to open up his heart, but after an adult life of closing himself off, how could he succeed? I'm going to give this all I've got.
And why not? All I have is now, he thought. He would make the most of it. "I have to be honest with you. I thought I might be a staying kind of man, but I might not be good enough for you and I want to be. You might not want to get tangled up with me. What if I'm not good for you, pretty lady?"
"I appreciate the warning. And I can always change your mind."
"I hope so."
With a beaming joy radiating from her smile, she breezed away from his grasp, her soft rose-colored dress shivering around her slender, woman's shape. "The sun's already up, and the horses need to be out in this glorious morning."
"That's my job." He hated for their moments together to end and so he needed to cool down his blood, running far too hot for her. He stared out at the field, gaining his composure and hoping his aroused state would cool down.
