by Gold, Ciara
He grinned, obviously pleased with her interest in him. “I missed you, too.”
She narrowed her eyes, unwilling to admit she’d yearned for his presence. “I’ll get you some supper. You can wash up at that basin.”
They said very little to each other while she prepared him a meal. She set the meager helping in front of him with a glass of cold milk. He ate silently while she watched. He grimaced at the first bite but refrained from complaining. The first batch hadn’t been all that appetizing, but a warmed-over helping had to taste even worse. She’d over-salted it, but it was filling and all she had to offer.
She took a seat at the table while he ate. Strange, but the silence felt comfortable. Would it have been this way if things had worked out for her and James? Would they have worked hard all day to come home to a quiet evening spent enjoying each other’s company? She gave herself a mental shake. James had tried to kill her. He and Bryce were worlds apart.
“You plannin’ to keep that coat on all night?”
She shrugged but slipped out of it. “I guess it is silly to wear it inside. I’m feeling warmer now.” And safer, though admitting it to Bryce would only make his head swell.
He nodded, glancing around the sparsely furnished room. “Sarge said you’ve been stayin’ here since I left. Any particular reason why?”
A ton of reasons topped the list, but none she wanted to share. “I don’t need an excuse to stay on my land.”
“You’re as prickly as a cactus in summer. You’re always on the defensive with me. I wasn’t tryin’ to pry into your business. I just thought to make conversation.”
“I’m...I’m sorry, Bryce. You always push and push, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond.” She traced the wood grain on the tabletop with her finger. “Prying into my business seems to be your favorite pastime. Did you discover anything more when you went back to Denver?”
He stiffened and dropped his spoon into his bowl of stew. “I meddle because I care. And if you weren’t so all fired secretive, we could probably solve this case a lot faster.”
Her breath caught. Had he just admitted to deeper feelings? “It’s hard to let someone into my life when I’ve been on my own for so long.”
He rested his chin against his folded hands with his elbows propped on the table and studied her. After a long silence, his mouth curved into a gentle smile. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t mean to act like a bully, but it frustrates me that you really don’t need me. You’re a strong woman, Katy, and it makes me feel out of sorts. I want you to need me and you don’t. You don’t seem to need anyone.”
She’d had a lot of time to think and still no answers, but she wouldn’t get any answers until she learned to trust her heart.
“You’re so wrong,” she whispered. In a stronger voice, she continued, “I’ve been thinking about things. I came close to losing my life, and it got me to wondering. And wondering made me wish. You might find it hard to believe, but I don’t like being alone, never have. Everything you know about me is just a bluff. I started working for the suffrage movement to prove to James and Sarge I didn’t need a man in my life. Don’t get me wrong. I believe in the cause, but I’m tired of being in the lead. I want other things for myself. Believe it or not, I do want a family, a home. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday. Getting shot at gave me a whole new perspective.”
“You’re thinkin’ about givin’ a go at this ranch again, aren’t you?” He plopped another bite into his mouth and grimaced.
She nodded. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed the day-to-day challenges. I’ve been living the last two years for other people. I want to live for myself, now.”
He glanced at her suspiciously. “Those notes don’t have anything to do with your change of heart, do they?”
“What do you mean?”
“The notes told you to leave Denver, and now that’s just what you’re thinkin’.”
“You think I’m running?” The hardships she had endured on her land far outweighed the trials she’d faced in Denver. How could that possibly be construed as running?
“Aren’t you?”
Her brow furrowed. “I’ve never run from anything in my life.”
Bryce sighed. Pushing his half-eaten meal away from him, he leaned back in the chair. “All right. Let’s test your theory. What are your feelings for me? Your honest feelings.”
She fell back in her chair, her mouth agape. How in the world could she explain something she wasn’t even sure of? A few days ago, she’d entertained the idea of asking Bryce to move out here with her as her foreman. Surely, growing up on a ranch would give him the necessary skills. She’d since talked herself out of the idea, unable to say why exactly. She felt so mixed up. Normally, her self-confidence allowed her to tackle any obstacle, but Bryce made her question her desires. He made her question herself.
“I...I don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I think you do.” He crossed his arms over his chest and bore holes into her soul with his hard gaze.
“Is this about that kiss again? We...we both got carried away in the emotions of the moment, so don’t go thinking that kiss had any meaning attached to it.” She licked her lips, wanting to confess her heart’s true desire but afraid to take the first step. Bryce’s question threatened the tight rein she held on her emotions. Come on, Kaitlin. Open your heart.
“I don’t particularly care for liars, Katy. Lie all you want to yourself, but don’t lie to me.”
Kaitlin stood and grabbed the dirty plate and fork. She carried them to the basin but turned at the last minute. “You really want to know what I’m thinking? I’m...I’m thinking you can wash your own plate.”
Bryce stood and took the plate from her trembling fingers. His actions were slow, methodical. He scraped the uneaten contents into a tin can, then reached around so his arms encircled her, and dropped the plate into the water. “If I can wash it this way, with my arms around you, I’ll gladly do the dishes every day for the rest of our lives.”
She froze. Every day for the rest of their lives?
He pushed her back until she leaned against the preparation table. With his arms still around her, he soaped the chipped pottery. With no room to move, he pressed closer. The maneuver brought her into his warmth. A whiskered cheek rubbed against her own as he pressed his lips to the hollow of her neck.
“Let me go—please.”
“Not until the plate’s clean.” The water basin sloshed behind her. She felt the hardness of his pelvis, and her heart raced.
“You’re getting me wet.”
He laughed again, a soft, seductive sound that went straight to her mid-section. “That’s the whole plan.”
She wasn’t sure she understood his innuendo, but she imagined where his mind traveled at the moment. The intimacies shared between a man and woman still mystified her, but she knew enough. Bryce had overstepped the boundaries. Allowing his advances meant giving up control and letting the protective shell she’d erected crumble into pieces.
She shoved at his chest, but her hands went still upon his solid form. Beneath her fingers, she felt the steady beat of his heart. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why? We both want the same things out of life. There’s no reason I can think of that we can’t want those things together,” he replied before pressing his lips to hers. The touch of his warm mouth unraveled her carefully erected wall. She offered no resistance, too stunned to react. His moist lips teased and invited. He kissed her as if she were the only woman alive. Her mouth opened, allowing his tongue to explore at will. She moaned. Encouraged, he molded his body to hers. Suddenly, it was as if he couldn’t get enough. He seemed to want to devour her, to taste every inch of her essence. She melted into his need, unable to stop.
With a groan, he lifted his head. Breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers. She pulled away and studied his languid features, his swollen lips, half-closed eyelids, his cheeks warm with color. He wanted her
, totally and completely. Every gesture made, from the soft moan of delight to his sultry looks, confirmed his desire for her.
His forehead touched hers again, and he inhaled deeply. She wanted him. God help her, but she wanted him in a way that stunned her to the very core of her being. What was it about Bryce Stanton that made her forget her resolve, made her act like a wilted lily needing water?
“Ask me,” he said, the words a mere breath of sound.
“I can’t.” The denial wormed itself from the very depths of her being. “This is wrong. I can’t just let you take liberties without some sort of commitment.”
He let her go and ran his fingers through his golden mane. “And commitment would totally foul up your plans, wouldn’t it?” His voice was as dry as summer heat.
“False commitment sure would.” A sudden burst of anger made her pulse beat stronger.
“False commitment?”
“The kind where you promise me the moon, and I simper and preen and fall into your arms. The moon eclipses over, and I’m left with nothing but words.”
He grabbed her shoulders. “I’m not James Latham.”
“I...I can see that.”
“I’m not so sure you can.”
Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle an anguished gasp.
He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry.” He let her go and rubbed his forehead. “I’m tired, and if we continue, I’m liable to let my mouth chase my tail. Let’s call it a night and finish this in the mornin’.”
She might never find another time to say what was really in her heart. Her gaze followed his progress across the room.
He picked up his coat and had one arm in the sleeve before she found her voice. “Stop. I...I don’t want you to go.”
“What are you sayin’?”
“It’s too cold for you to sleep in the barn.”
He let the coat slide from his arm. “If I stay, I don’t aim to sleep on a palette.”
Her skin warmed. “You...you won’t have to.”
“Katy, I don’t want you to feel like I pressured you into somethin’ you’re not ready for. I really don’t mind sleepin’ in the barn if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”
“I’m not offering anything but...but sleep, and it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” She clasped her hands in front of her and stared at his weary features. “You look exhausted. I think I’d feel even more uncomfortable if I made you bed down in the cold.”
“Then if it’s all right by you, I’ll turn in now.”
She nodded, and he headed for the only bedroom. He whipped off his belt and yanked out his shirttails. With his shirt hanging loose, he sat down on the bed and tried to pull off his boots, but they wouldn’t cooperate. Taking pity, she brought him the boot puller from the corner of the room. “This will help.”
“Thank you.”
“No. I should thank you for all you’ve done for me. I know I’ve been stubborn and hard to work with, and you must think I’m ungrateful, but...”
He held up a hand. “Katy, I haven’t always been the gentleman my father raised me to be, but I’ve learned to respect your independence. Never apologize for bein’ yourself.”
She smiled. “Do you need anything else?”
“Nope.” He stretched out on her bed fully clothed, his hands clasped behind his head. “Don’t stay up too late.” He closed his eyes.
Kaitlin allowed her gaze to wander the length of him. At least he’d saved her room on the bed. She smiled. All her jumbled emotions no longer bothered her as she realized how much she’d come to care for this man. A sound caught her attention. Incredulously, Kaitlin crept closer to the bed.
The man was snoring, a soft, rumbling sound. Exhaustion had claimed him almost the minute his head touched the pillow.
Oddly, the sound of Bryce snoring in her bed, gave her a warm feeling of contentment. Quietly, she put another log on the fire. After making sure the front room was secure for the night, she readied herself for sleep.
Dressed in her flannel nightgown, she approached the bed slowly. It wasn’t like they hadn’t slept together before, she reasoned. She walked over to the other side of the bed and carefully peeled the blankets down. Bryce had fallen asleep on top of the covers, so she wasn’t able to pull them down as far as she’d liked. Gently, she sat on the edge of the mattress. She extinguished the light from the kerosene lantern on the bedside table. Careful not to awaken him, she climbed under the covers.
Kaitlin smiled. Another time, another place, and their proximity to each other in bed would have been enough to ruin her reputation. She supposed this night still had the power to cause her grief, but she was older, less malleable.
She tried to make herself relax. Finding sleep impossible, she stared at the shadowed ceiling and mulled over Bryce’s presence in her bed.
She knew exactly what he’d wanted her to ask him. Knew intuitively they were headed on a collision course, fated to become one. Bryce wanted a wife. He made no secret of this desire. So the only question remaining was what she wanted from life.
He seemed to know her better than she knew herself. He’d forced her to initiate their first kiss. Unafraid to let a woman take the lead, he’d allowed her to set the pace, control the moment. The notion both thrilled and frightened her. He offered the same opportunity tonight. Masterfully, like a well-trained cutting horse, he was allowing her to direct him toward the chute. Did she really want him there?
Not that she hadn’t given the matter some thought. With Bryce by her side, she could build this place into something worthy of Sarge’s approval, worthy of her own approval. But Bryce was crafty. He wouldn’t settle for a foreman’s position, not when he could have more.
Ask me. The gentle command tugged at her most hidden desires. She wanted to, but fear kept her from voicing the one question that would take her on a completely different life journey. She turned her head toward the one man who might be able to take her safely across the craggy surface, low valleys, and high peaks.
The man wanted marriage. He’d wanted her to propose. The opportunity had presented itself, and she’d balked like a skittish filly. Would he give her another chance? Or would he take matters into his own hands and ask her?
Ask me.
The words played over and over, lulling her into a troubled sleep. The answer seemed as elusive as the question. Open your heart, Katy. The answer’s there.
Thirty One
Something wonderful stroked her back, sending waves of pleasure along her spine. She stretched languidly, content to awaken slowly. The covers rustled, and her eyes flew wide.
Bryce shared her bed. How could she forget?
She turned, rolling over to confront the man who stirred her blood. “Good morning.”
His lips curled in a seductive smile. “Mornin’.”
He remained on top of the covers fully clothed, while she cuddled beneath the bedspread.
Hiding.
She balked at the errant thought, but knew it to be true. When they’d spent their first night together, she’d asked for his attentions, and he’d turned her down, claiming a chivalrous need to protect her emotions from further pain. Last night, she’d run from her desires like a skittish horse. He hadn’t been far from the mark when he’d accused her of running. But goodness, the man knew how to make her emotions roil like a thundercloud over the desert.
And this morning? How did she feel this morning?
She stared at his full lips framed by the thick mustache and licked her own lips. The man’s gaze held hers with such passion that she wanted to bury herself deep within his embrace.
An unexpected resolved settled over her. He’d accused her many times of hiding, of running from a haunting past. Today, she was done with hiding.
“Bryce?” The plea left her mouth before she could formulate her thoughts.
“I love the way you look in the mornin’, all tousled, like a wild mare after a mornin’s gallop.”
She
peeled the covers away and shivered when cold air touched her skin. If she asked, would he turn her away again? He’d wanted her last night. She hoped he wanted her still.
He gave her a gentle but knowing smile. “Ask me.”
He made no move to touch her, to reassure her with kisses. Instead he waited for her to take the lead. Her tongue darted over her lips, and she hesitated. She wanted this man with an intensity that shook her very core.
“Please.”
“Tell me what you really want, and I’ll move heaven and earth to oblige.”
Oh God, she didn’t want to beg. Couldn’t he read her mind, her heart?
He reached out a finger and stroked her cheek. She closed her eyes against the gentle touch.
“Kiss me.”
“One kiss won’t be enough.”
She knew what he wanted, what he desired. Wrapping arms around herself, she stared into his eyes. “Make me warm, Bryce.”
After rolling from the bed, he gathered two logs and bent to tend the fire. She propped herself on her elbow to watch his graceful movements. The new wood hissed and cracked as flames licked around them. He straightened and turned to look at her.
“Come back to bed,” she said, surprising herself with her sudden confidence.
He reached for the buttons of his shirt and worked them free. Her eyes widened when he shrugged out of the flannel garment and exposed his red long johns. His fingers trailed lower and unfastened his pants. Sliding them down narrow hips, he peeled them from his body.
He paused, and she knew he waited for reassurance. She nodded, her gaze riveted to his sculpted muscles.
“Tell me again what you want,” he said.
“You. I—I want you.”
The rest of his clothing fell to a heap beside the bed, and he slid beneath the covers. A sudden shyness overcame her. He’d allowed her to lead, but in this she had no skill. What should she do next?
