Wild Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series)

by Debra Holland

  Eventually, curiosity overcame her fear. From her hidden vantage point, she peeked out at the swimmer. Definitely male. The moon's light played over a broad shoulder and muscled arm, lifted in a stroking motion. The strokes stopped, and the man stood up in water to his hips, shaking long hair out of his face.

  Nick. Even at night she recognized that chest--she'd been trying not to think of it all day.

  Butterflies floated in her stomach, and their tickling spread throughout her body, lingering in the vicinity of her heart, which thudded so hard she thought he'd hear. She should leave before he discovered her, but her stubborn feet remained rooted to the spot.

  The dogs returned from their explorations. Elizabeth made a futile grab for the nearest one. With a bark, the dogs rushed forward to the pool. Then, as if asking her to join in the fun, with an eager whine, one trotted back to her.

  "Who's there?" Nick called.

  Conflicting thoughts flashed through her mind. How mortifying to be caught spying on Nick as he swam in the nude. She couldn't hide; the dogs would give her away. And she couldn't run. What if Nick, not knowing who she was, chased her?

  Blood rushed from her head, and she almost swooned with embarrassment. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

  "It's Elizabeth." She kept her body screened by the bushes, but leaned her head out so he'd see her face.

  Nick stepped back into deeper water. "Elizabeth! What are you doing here?"

  "I was hot and couldn't sleep." She ducked her head back into the bushes. "I thought I'd cool off with a swim. I never dreamed anyone...."

  Time drew out. A bird called.

  "The last foal was born tonight," Nick said. "A filly. Afterwards, I..." his voice trailed off.

  "Oh, I missed the last of the births."

  "There'll be plenty ... next year."

  This time the silence lengthened.

  Elizabeth knew she should excuse herself and return to the house, but a reckless feeling of abandonment seized her. "Nick, I'm still so hot. Do you think I could--that is, I'd like to cool off."

  Laughter edged his voice. "Then come on in. The water's just fine." He made a splashing motion with his hand. "If you'll turn your back, I'll hustle into my clothes."

  Elizabeth's heart sped up again. A swim. At night. With a man present. A naked man! What was she thinking?

  Banishing her prim thoughts, she took a cautious step into the open, then another. Surely he'd notice that all she had on was her nightgown. What would he say?

  "Close your eyes," he ordered.

  She complied. Senses heightened, she listened to the sounds of his movements in the water. When she heard him step onto solid ground she couldn't resist the urge to peek. Just a brief lift of her eyelids showed the curve of his back and buttocks as he bent to pick up his pants and the long line of legs hardened from hours in the saddle. She admired the way the silvery moon's glow gleamed over his well-muscled body, like the marble statues she'd seen during a long ago trip to Italy.

  Elizabeth shivered in delight. Fire raced through her veins. She flexed her hands. She'd never painted portraits of the human figure, but she wanted to paint Nick. No, model him in clay, another medium she hadn't ever been interested in before. She imagined running her hands down his leg, molding the pliable clay under her fingers, she could almost feel the strength in the---

  "You can open your eyes now." Nick's voice interrupted her reverie.

  She gave a guilty start, hoping he hadn't noticed her peeking.

  "I'll trade places with you," he continued. "You swim, and I'll keep watch."

  "Swim?" she echoed. "In front of you?" What a scandalously, wonderful thought.

  "No," he teased. "Behind me. I'll sit on the tree trunk with my back to you."

  "You could just leave." But please don’t.

  "No." His voice was firm. "I'll stay to guard you." His tone turned teasing. "Don't you want me to protect you from any wolves or bears who might be interested in a beautiful mermaid?"

  Well, when he put it that way.... "Just don't look."

  "My word of honor, ma'am."

  "And don't call me, ma'am."

  "Yes, Elizabeth."

  He turned away, a resolute stiffness in his bare back. She admired the curve of his spine before quickly pulling off her nightgown and stepping into the water. She sighed with pleasure as the blessed relief from the heat enveloped her parched skin. But even the coolness of the water didn't quench the fire raging inside her.

  #

  Nick heard the soft slither of fabric as it slid from Elizabeth's body to the ground, then the gentle splash as she paddled in the water. He'd faced bears, wolves, stampeding cattle, buckin' horses, and marauding outlaws, but, in retrospect, that had been nothin' to the fortitude it took to keep his back to the pool while the vision of a nude Elizabeth threatened to buckle his knees.

  He groped behind him for the tree trunk. When he touched the rough bark, he backed up until he could drop down and sit. Another splash and glide sounded as though she swam on her back. He could envision her hair floating around her and the splendor of her beautiful body shining in the moonlight. With a groan that he bit off before it could become audible, he sank his head to his knees and hung on with both hands.

  "You lasso those thoughts, cowboy," he muttered. As if to keep himself firmly planted, he dug his heels into the ground, and began to pray for the strength to resist temptation.

  "The water's marvelously refreshing." Her voice sounded as bubbly as the water over rocks. "I'm so glad to be cold again." He heard the sound of her hand running over her satin-cool skin. "I have goose bumps."

  He almost groaned again. Hopefully Elizabeth wouldn't swim for very long, because when she was through, he'd need to be jumpin' back in that water to cool down.

  "I should have brought a towel," she continued, as he heard her emerge and move up the bank. "My nightgown will be soaking wet."

  You’re making this very difficult for me, Elizabeth. "Just stand there for a few minutes, and you'll dry off."

  "My hair won't." She laughed. "It'll keep me cool."

  He must be dreaming. This couldn't possibly be happening. Miss Elizabeth Hamilton stood behind him with nothing but wet hair to hide her nakedness. And laughing about it. She made it damn hard for him to remain a gentleman.

  Cloth rustled, and he knew she'd stepped out of the water and had put her nightgown back on.

  "You can turn around now."

  Ever so slowly he stood, then shifted to face her. He restrained himself from gasping at the sight of her beauty. In the moonlight she glowed like a silver angel.

  Almost without volition, his hands reached toward her.

  With a mischievous smile, she stepped onto the tree trunk. Perched above him, she took his hands. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Tomorrow, I'll feel so embarrassed, but tonight everything is perfect," she said in a soft voice.

  The distant howl of a wolf startled her. She glanced behind and lost her balance.

  Before she could fall, Nick caught her and slowly lowered her to the ground.

  Elizabeth looked up at him, lips slightly parted. In a trance, he bent his head, and slowly brushed her lips with his.

  Elizabeth raised her arms and clasped his shoulders with her hands. Taking that for an invitation, he feathered kisses across her cheeks, until he reached her waiting mouth. Beneath his hands, he felt her quiver in response.

  He paused, looking into her eyes with all the love he could give her, and tenderly brushed her cheek with his finger. Then, sliding his hand behind her neck, he kissed her again. This time he deepened his kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth, teasing her tongue into a response.

  Her arms tightened around his neck, and she pressed her breasts against his chest. Through the damp material he could feel their lush fullness. He dropped his hands to span her waist, and spread his fingers across her back, his thumbs just touching her navel. A shudder sped through him, and it took every ounce of discipline h
e had to not run his hands up her body.

  With reluctance he disengaged his mouth from hers.

  "Elizabeth." He stroked a damp tendril off her forehead, then kissed her brow. "We'd better go back to the house. I can't answer for my behavior if we keep this up."

  Her lips parted in a sigh of protest. He gave them a quick kiss, then with great effort, resolutely stepped back.

  "Come on." Nick could hear the thickness in his voice. He leaned over to pick up his soiled shirt. Tossing it over his shoulder, he took a few steps away from her. "I don't want to leave you, but perhaps it's best if you and the dogs go back first. I doubt anyone's up, but we can't risk being seen together like this."

  "You're right," Elizabeth whispered. "We'd scandalize everyone."

  "Of course, I'd fight any of the men who said anything bad about you." He laughed and shook his head. "But I sure couldn't do that with the women."

  "Pamela would be shocked, but she'd believe me if I said nothing happened."

  "Hardly nothing, Elizabeth." He moved closer, took her hand, brought it to his lips, then cupped her palm to his cheek. "I love you."

  She stepped back, but didn't release his hand. Even in the dim light he could see the uncertainty leap into her eyes. Her mouth opened in shock. "But---"

  He placed a finger on her lips. "Don't say anything. I know you don't feel the same."

  The uncertain look eased to relief.

  "Good night, Nick." Elizabeth dropped his hand, stepped past him and started toward the house.

  "Good night, Elizabeth."

  The dogs looked from her retreating back to his still form. He shooed them to follow her.

  Nick watched until the darkness swallowed her white figure, then turned back for that cold swim he'd promised himself. The chill water would douse his body's passion, but now that he'd held Elizabeth in his arms, tasted her sweet lips, and felt her respond to his touch, nothing could wash the aching emptiness from his heart.

  #

  Elizabeth hurried to the house, her mind and emotions torn by what had just happened. Somewhere inside, she knew she should be feeling ashamed, but she wasn't. Excited, confused, shaken--but not ashamed. As she pondered her emotions, her steps slowed.

  She'd never experienced anything like Nick's kisses. Not even Richard had stirred her to such depths. And Caleb had never given her the opportunity. She wondered if Caleb's kisses would move her the same way Nick's did? Surely they would. She'd better make certain before she made an irrevocable decision.

  Fingering a strand of hair tickling her neck, she relived the thrill of Nick's embrace. If he hadn't stopped, would she have wantonly abandoned herself to the tide of feelings that had swept over her? What about Caleb? A spurt of guilt darted across her mind. If he knew....

  Confused, Elizabeth tossed her wet hair over her shoulder. She should feel grateful Nick was a gentleman, but the tight tingling in her breasts and the lingering memory of his lips on hers almost made her wish they'd continued making love under the wild Montana sky.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The next morning as Elizabeth, lost in her reverie of last night's encounter with Nick, walked down the hall, she casually glanced up, only to stop short at the sight of her goddaughter curled like a napping kitten halfway up the staircase. She smiled and shook her head at the child's choice of resting place. "Lizzy, dearest, what are you doing?"

  The child turned her head slightly from where it laid on her arm, but didn't answer.

  "Little bird, you've chosen a strange place to make a nest," Elizabeth teased, climbing the stairs to sit beside Lizzy. "Why don't you go lie on your comfortable bed?" She stroked the child's long brown curls away from her face.

  "Hot," Lizzy murmured.

  "I know, darling." Elizabeth gathered the child onto her lap.

  Lizzy sprawled in her arms like a rag doll. Her little body felt warm, too warm. Faint stirrings of alarm crept into Elizabeth's mind. "Lizzy, dearest, tell Aunt Elizabeth what's wrong." She rocked the child back and forth.

  Lizzy lifted heavy eyelids. "Hot," she repeated.

  Elizabeth studied the child's face. Lizzy's normally pale skin was translucent, with dark circles under her eyes. A bright flush of unhealthy color dotted each cheek.

  Oh, no. Elizabeth bit her lip to stop its quiver.

  Mark clattered through the front door, sliding to a stop when he caught sight of the two of them on the stairs. "What'cha doing, Aunt Elizabeth?"

  "Run and get your mother," Elizabeth said, trying not to sound as worried as she felt. "I'm putting Lizzy to bed."

  Gingerly, she straightened, careful to balance her precious burden. Moving slowly enough so as not to trip on the hem of her skirt, she took one step at a time. When she reached the landing, she quickened her pace into Lizzy's room. She turned back a quilt sprigged with pink flowers, laid Lizzy down, and sat next to her.

  The child didn't even reach for the well-worn brown bunny with which she slept.

  Elizabeth's concern increased. Lizzy always grabbed that stuffed animal when she climbed in bed. She slept with it cuddled next to her, and, only with the greatest reluctance, relinquished her beloved bunny in the morning.

  Elizabeth reached for the animal. "Here's your bunny, dearest." She placed it on Lizzy's chest and gently pulled the child's arm around it.

  Still carrying the pansy embroidery she'd been working on, Pamela hurried through the door. "Elizabeth, Mark said you wanted me?"

  Elizabeth rose. "Something's wrong with Lizzy. I think she's feverish."

  "Oh, dear Lord." Pamela tossed the embroidery onto a wooden chest, rushed to her daughter's side, and placed a hand on her forehead. She looked over at Elizabeth, fear in her eyes. "You're right." Sitting on the bed, she tenderly lifted Lizzy to a sitting position. "Here, sweetling. Let Mama help you into something more comfortable." Propping the limp child against her side, Pamela untied the bow on the back of Lizzy's white pinafore.

  Elizabeth twisted her hands into the material of her skirt. "What can I do to help?"

  "John's with the men at the south pasture. Nick will have to go to town for Dr. Cameron." Pamela slipped off the pinafore.

  "I'll go tell him." Elizabeth placed a hand on her friend's shoulder and squeezed. "And I'll send Mark to get John."

  Pamela looked up at Elizabeth, anxiousness pulling the skin around her eyes. "I'm so glad you're here with me, Beth."

  Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat and leaned over to tuck Pamela's usual straying strands of hair back into place, then kissed her cheek. "I am, too." She turned to leave. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

  Please, please, dear Lord. Let her be all right. The words tumbled through her mind in rhythm to her quick steps.

  Out in the sun, the heat blazed down on her. The dust kicked up in the hot air, drying her lungs and making it difficult to breathe. Maybe, she wished, just maybe, Lizzy was only affected by the heat. But even as Elizabeth tried to console herself, in her heart, she knew differently.

  As she rounded the barn, to her relief she saw Nick and Mark exactly where she'd expected them to be--working Outlaw. Nick, the back of his blue shirt soaked with sweat, was lunging the horse on a long lead. Mark, perched on the top rail on the opposite side of the corral, waved at her.

  "Nick," she called and waved, forgetting to be careful in front of Outlaw.

  At the unexpected sound, the horse shied, then reared on his hind legs, eyes showing white.

  "Whoa, boy." Nick gathered the rope in, crooning soft words of comfort. Outlaw took reluctant steps toward him. Nick rubbed the horse's nose, then turned toward Elizabeth.

  The smile that brightened his eyes darkened when he saw the expression on her face. He flipped the lunge rope several times around a rail of the fence. "What's wrong?"

  "It's Lizzy!" Elizabeth gasped for a breath. "She's ... she's feverish. Pamela wants you to ride for Dr. Cameron."

  Without a word, he strode to the saddle and blanket resting on the top rail o
f the fence, and threw them on Outlaw's back. He motioned to Mark. The boy jumped down and ran across the corral to him, making a wide berth around Outlaw.

  "Lizzy's sick. Your Ma wants me to get the doctor."

  Mark looked from Elizabeth to Nick, tension draining his face of color, making his freckles stand out against his pale skin. "Is she going to be all right?"

  Nick gripped Mark's shoulder with a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure she'll be fine, son. You know what a good doc Doctor Cameron is."

  "Yes, sir," he said, but fear still tightened the muscles in his jaw.

  Nick gave him a gentle shake. "I want you to saddle up and ride for your pa."

  Mark nodded.

  "Good. Now, get movin'."

  With one hand holding the hat on his head, Mark took off running toward the barn, dust puffing with every step.

  Nick finished saddling the horse, exchanged Outlaw's halter for a bridle, opened the gate to the corral, and led the horse through. In one fluid motion he gathered the reins and vaulted into the saddle.

  Outlaw danced sideways.

  Nick brought him back. Looking down at Elizabeth, he leaned over and touched a tender hand to her cheek. "I promise, Dr. Cameron will be here soon." He kicked the horse into a lope.

  Elizabeth placed one hand on her chest while the other cupped her cheek. Somehow Nick's gentle touch warmed the cold fear in her heart. Then, she whirled and hurried toward the house.

  #

  A few hours later, Lizzy's small room overflowed with people. At the foot of the bed John, still clad in his dusty work clothes, rested a supportive arm around his wife. Elizabeth stood in the doorway watching Dr. Cameron's examination of Lizzy. The man's gentle yet professional manner reassured her. So different from the brisk, stern man who'd been the family doctor when she and Pamela were growing up. She'd always been afraid of him.

  In the hallway, Nick paced back and forth, while Mark and Sara, clutching each other's hands, sat on the top step of the stairway.

  Doctor Cameron bent over the bed, his fingers moving gently over Lizzy's body, his brogue broadening as he tried to coax responses out of the child. When Lizzy rewarded him with a slight smile, Elizabeth relaxed a little. The child was in good hands. Surely Dr. Cameron would have her feeling better in no time.