by Jillian Hart
"That sounds like a good way to do life, especially marriage." Winn's hand gripped hers again, a brief squeeze of his fingers tightening around hers, and her entire being sighed. A hot thudding sensation spilled into her blood, and her chest filled with warmth for him, not to mention the desire she was fighting to hold back. She loved this man. How was she going to protect her from him now?
In the adjacent room, Nola broke out into a soft peal of laughter to whatever conversation was going on in the room. Aunt Peg's answered, her words muffled by the wall, and so was Uncle Stan's. It was a perfect moment Saydee never wanted to forget. Winn squeezed one more time before letting her go, and against the background view of the big window white with a blizzard, he tucked his hammer into his belt and stalked into the room to get to work.
The white swirling blur of snow framing made him seem bigger, more alive, somehow, and it felt wonderfully free of heart to stand at the railing looking down at him, with her heart dancing like a dream of a waltz. With so much happiness in her home and surrounding her, she grinned as Peg's slightly off-key soprano voice warbled above the others. Saydee wanted to laugh with happiness.
She smiled at the wonder of a man when he turned around, who smiled back at her with twinkles in his eyes and a grin curving his mouth. Nothing in her life had ever felt this right or so close to perfect. She wanted to capture this moment in a bottle of glass and stopper it up, to keep it trapped and forever alive, this memory, and keep it to treasure, but heels knelled behind her, breaking the moment, and her aunt tapped into sight, all business, her smiling eyes full of determination and her hands fisted, ready to forge on to the next project.
"Saydee, it's time to go through your linen closet and get sheets and quilts for our new bed and Nola's. Come with me." Peg tapped down the stairs with great cheerful purpose. "I sure hope that's all right with you? Oh, this is great fun, getting to camp out here at your place again, and we're so grateful we have your home to backtrack to, so warm and wonderful. Those bedsteads are going to be so comfortable, I love those mattresses, we will sleep like a pair of logs, happy as can be, and you're right, this is a much warmer place. Maybe you should move your room upstairs above the kitchen. Right now, it's as toasty and cozy as can be. As you know, I have a rather soft spot for you in my heart and always will."
"Lucky me, and I adore you right back. I've got some nice warm sheets for extra beds, as you know. Remember last year when a blizzard trapped all of you here for ten days?" She followed her aunt down the stairs. "What if the entire winter to come is like that? These blizzards are awfully early, it's only September."
"Late September, dear, and that makes all the difference."
"Also, we're in the mountains, you know."
"I can't deny that's a factor." Peg stopped at the bottom of the stairs to squint at the raging whiteness outside. "It sure is blowing! The first winter we moved here was like this, a big string of storms, impossible to deal with so early in autumn, but then we had a pleasant winter with nary a blizzard to speak of. So I see blue skies ahead, and I love any excuse to spend time with you."
"That's how I feel too." Saydee stopped at the window too, but instead of looking at the glass she glanced upstairs and had a lucky view of Winn standing in the extra bedroom talking with Stan, easy-going, handsome and relaxed. He looked happy, and it was good to see. Good.
"Having your Winn here and his little Jack is a grand gift. I'm happy for you, dear."
"You know there's no way I can answer that except to say it's private and he can probably hear me. I'd just embarrass myself. What do you think of that?" Saydee winked, doing her best, but she went up on tiptoe so her gaze could stay pinned on the capable man, tall and handsome. Flames leaped and danced in the nearby hearth, crackling and popping in the grate.
Across the distance between them, their gazes met and she felt the warmth of his heart in the air. He grinned. She grinned back. They would talk later, but right now her aunt needed her. He nodded and she took a step away. "Aunt Peg, do I have to run across the parlor and sit on you? Rope you to a chair? How do I get you to slow down? You've got to be tired."
"Me, tired? Me, do too much? Impressible." The woman rolled her eyes from the other side of the parlor. "Why do people always say that to me? I can't think why. Rope me to the chair! Why would you want to slow me down? You've been talking with Nola again."
"I can't deny it." She turned around and slipped her foot onto a ladder rung. "Think of your health. Maybe I should make some fresh tea? You can sit down with Nola and me and we can rest up before you put us back to work. I'm exhausted."
"Me, too!" Nola called out from the dining room where she was sitting in the new chair.
"Can you have mercy on us, Aunt Peg?"
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The older shook her head, unable to hold back her joy or her laughter. "I have no mercy for you two lazy girls. Look at you! Dust is likely to settle on you if I don't keep you moving. I've got my duty, although tea does sound nice."
"I thought so." She knew how to slow down her dynamic aunt.
Her shoes knelled a cheerful cadence as she crossed the parlor. Jack looked up at her over the top of Pete's ears and gave her an accepting nod of approval. He looked resolved but okay about staying here with her. Good. She and the boy were going to be okay. She followed her aunt into the dining room, where she and Nola began a discussion about what flavor of tea to brew as Nola hopped to her feet and Saydee turned, hearing Winn's boots on the stairs.
His grin met hers and she could feel his high regard as he grabbed wood from the woodbox and fed the fire. The man's presence flared right through her, crisping her to the core. She followed her aunt and cousin into the kitchen, never to be quite the same.
When she looked over her shoulder, her eyes zipped straight to him, drawn and caught to him like the moon was to the earth, forever bound. He's leaving, she reminded herself, but her entire being, not to mention her body, yearned for him with a passion and a hunger she would not hold back. She would never see him again. She knew it. He did, too.
Nola's voice startled her, her step ringing as she pivoted away weaving around the end of the kitchen counter. "Where do you keep your hobbling ropes and your lariat?"
"I'll rope her," Saydee winked. "You hogtie her."
"I heard that, you girls! You two are trouble!" Laughing, Peg looked up from Saydee's polished oak buffet cabinet against one wall, where she had pulled open one of the cabinets to reveal folded quarters of fabric. "Your sewing supplies are sparse, but they'll have to do. Thank goodness you have enough batting."
"What are you looking in there for?"
"My afternoon project. I'm going to need something to keep my hands busy."
"I know, you just can't sit around, Ma!" Nola rolled her eyes, full of adoration. "I'm not sure what will happen if you don't get everything done and just right for everybody. Maybe taking some tea will help you do it. Can you imagine sitting still and enjoying it?"
"Give it a try," Saydee chimed in. "You are a guest here. How many times do I need to tell you? You relax, I do the work."
"You will surely spoil me! I don't tolerate that kind of thing, not when I can do something about it. This storm is more than fortuitous, it is destiny. I am sure heaven above is insisting I stay here and sew up some much needed clothes and things for dear Jack. Saydee, I'm going to need your tracing papers, I have a pattern I'd like to draw out. Don't just stand there, Nola, help me carry these stacks of fabric."
"So much for my resolve to get you relaxing," Saydee chuckled as she padded right on past, intent on beating Peg to the kitchen to get the tea steeping before she could do it. The woman was a guest in this house! What did it take for her understand how much she was loved? Peg wasn't about to do too much work. If Saydee could stop her. Whatever happened, it would be amusing and wonderful.
Just like with Winn, but in a much different way. She looked up, letting her gaze arrow straight to the man one more time. He stood in the doorway to
the vestibule, broad shoulders squared, pausing for a moment as he slipped into his coat, ready to go out into the storm for a moment again, and his smoldering gaze seared her with the knowledge that he knew she wanted him, too.
Then he turned, disappeared into the lean-to shadows and was gone. The door closed behind him, and the stove lid rattled. So did her heart.
* * *
Hours later, exhausted from her aunt's ambitious sewing projects, Saydee stood in front of the cookstove and gave the bubbling stew a stir, breathing in the seasoned beef scent of the delicious meal simmering to near perfection. She shivered when she heard the creak of a floorboard in the kitchen behind her and the steady drum of Winn's gait. She'd know that rhythm anywhere.
She glanced over her shoulder and risked a revealing affection in her smile. "Before you ask, yes, I glanced at the finished construction project. You men did suburb work even without any supervision."
His step paused. "I know what I'm doing."
"I noticed. Don't think I didn't peek around the corner to catch sight of you wielding your hammer."
"And saw. Don't forget that. We made a real racket in this house, me and your uncle. I'm surprised you can still hear anything at all."
"What did you say?" she teased, savoring the butter-rum rumble of his chuckle while she still could, while he was right here, standing near to her, and not only a memory. "Just kidding. It was a good sound, especially to see my uncle so happy as to be keeping busy, and my aunt had enough advice for six women combined. It's why I didn't need to supervise at all."
"That is handy, and that's a fine thing in a relative. She took care of all the second guessing and by the time we were done, we had a stunningly well thought out bedroom set and a new little work table and chair for Jack. That fit perfect in his room and he seemed thrilled with it."
"Thanks to my aunt and uncle, it's been a very productive day. You've been a good sport about that, considering you're still injured. It matters to me that you think so well of my family."
"I really like them, and they seem dedicated to making sure that we do not have more than a few moments where I'm alone in your company."
"I noticed that, and I'm sorry about that too." She set the spoon in the sink to be washed and watched the flame flicker on the nearby lamp's wick and felt the light of hope in her heart dim. "It's been a long time since a good looking man made me lose my common sense and what's left of my mind after being kissed the way you do."
"Then lucky me and I'm not sorry for the experience. It's been a rare pleasure knowing such a fine woman as you." His step whispered behind her and his hands came around her shoulders. "I wish this wasn't bad timing for you and me."
"I can't disagree." Her breath caught when his hands grasped her around the waist, holding her to him, her back against his chest, and he felt as hard as tempered steel and male-warm. How easy it was to let her eyelids drift shut and lean into him. Why, she felt nearly boneless, and the strength in his arms held her upright, and made every inch of her shiver from her nape all the way to her toes. He was all she could feel, just everything, even in the air she breathed, and he became an ache in her heart. "I wish things could be different."
"I can't argue there." Sorrow rumbled in his chest and passed into her like a winter storm. "The only question is if you can keep a small amount of love in your heart for me? Always remember me as the man you could have loved for the rest of your days."
"You're content being a what-could-have-been?"
"Not at all, but I can't change another man's will and his hate." He pressed hot, perfect kisses in a line along the side of her throat until she shivered hard. Then satisfaction shone in his baritone like fire. "Let's forget that for now, while we can, and let me say I never thought I would ever have the right to hold a woman as beautiful as you."
Tears filled her eyes and made her chest ache. Big, wonderful emotions hurt as they came alive in her heart, just like hope. The love she felt for the man cut like a sharp knife, slicing hard and deep, too painful to endure, and yet she moaned when she could have said no, and let her head drift to the side to give him better access to her throat. But he surprised her by turning her around to face him, a swift show of strength and control, and when she gazed up to look into his eyes, the tenderness, ever deepening, she saw there left her changed, made her new like the woman she once used to be. When she smiled, she had no drop of sorrow in it.
"I need you, Saydee, and you should know what a desirable woman you are before I leave you, before I have to do what I must." He kissed her with infinite gentleness. "You should know that you are worth being deeply loved."
With those words, he won every piece of her heart, driving the loneliness away. "So are you."
"There are few I know who hold that opinion," he pointed out.
"I'm not one of them." A moan escaped as he pressed another kiss against the curve of her neck just above the lace of her collar, and he squeezed his eyes shut trying to imagine unbuttoning her just enough last night to get beneath that soft fabric and touch her velvet-warm skin. The palm of his hand still burned with the memory of holding her breast. He gathered up his will, dragged his lips off her woman-soft skin and struggled to pull away from her.
Just in time.
Stan strode through the archway and into sight. His wise eyes looked as if he'd expected to find them in an embrace, and was surprised to find them closure but no closer and approval flashed in his grin. "Hey, there, you two young people! Little Saydee, why, that stew smells delicious, like heaven itself would serve up on a good snowy day, and almost as stellar as your aunt Peg's. Any chance there will be biscuits?"
"I'm getting out the ingredients for them right now. Fortunately for you, I've got buttermilk on hand down cellar, so I hope you're happy. I mean, I can't compare to Aunt Peg's cooking, but she's bound to supervise, so that helps."
"Very true, and very good news." Stan stopped, rocked back on his heels, grinning ear to ear, full of delight.
"Did I hear my name?" Aunt Peg swept into view, swishing up to her husband, looking as sweet as a painting with the soft golden glow of the lamplight washing over her, and the pristine white swirl of snow from the window behind her like a picture in a Christmas story's page sweet like dreams. "How's that stew coming along, Saydee? It smells wonderful. I'm starving already. Oh, let me do this. You are not doing one ore thing for me. Nola? Where did that girl go? You get right in here and help me get these mixed up and in the oven. Saydee, you've been on your feet most of the day."
Saydee rolled her eyes ceiling ward, adorable with wisps of gold curling down from her up knot. "You are going to have to accept that you're still not in charge and I love you too much to accept anything less."
"Maybe I love you more." Peg shouldered up to the counter. "Now, give me that flour canister. And you, Winn, skedaddle or I'll never have my niece's full attention."
He took one look at the happiness so dear on Saydee's sweet face and his chest felt near to thawing for good. As if every piece of iron and ice, of winter and hardship could just melt away. If only this could be his real life, huh? The thought both steadied him and saddened him, but he didn't let it show. He took a step farther away. "I know when I'm not wanted."
"I saw that wink." Peg nodded her approval at him. "Smart man."
"I sure try to be." It felt good to be someplace where he was wanted, where he was liked and, as he cut his gaze for one last look at Saydee, maybe a lot more than liked. He struggled to make his feet carry him out of the kitchen. Stan gave him a wink as he lifted the lid off the cookie jar in another cookie stealing mission. The voices, full of warmth and joy, rang behind him, putting a cozy feeling into his heart as he ambled away.
The conversation followed him, and it must be real happiness to have that kind of regard between family members, folks who truly loved to spend time together. That was more than he'd ever hoped to find for himself one day. He heard the faint tap of Jack's shoes in the parlor, getting up from petting th
e dog. Judging by the wide grin on the shepherd's face, he didn't mind being adored at all. That felt right too, Winn thought, as he pointed to the overstuffed chair near the fireplace. "We need to talk, my boy."
"Yes, Pa." The light faded a notch from Jack's eyes. He knew, too this was to be their last day spent together.
He couldn't change it. His stomach hurt like he'd been punched, and he felt physically ill from the impact. He didn't know how he was going to find the inner strength to walk away from his son forever, but he'd have to do it. This longer delay because of the weather had only made it ten times more difficult.
Winn knelt down at the hearth, glad his back was turned so his face wouldn't give him away. His side hurt pretty good from pretending he hadn't been shot not that long ago, and the physical work of carpentry had taxed him. He hated the weakness shivering through him like ice water where warm blood used to be. He reached for the iron poker and straightened out two of the cedar chunks that had shifted as they'd burned.
The fire protested, popping and crackling, snapping and flaring, but he didn't stop until he'd gotten it right. It gave him time to think before he had to face the toll of the hour. The mantel clock ticked the time away, and it was almost five o'clock. Dust had already drained much of the gray daylight from the room, and Nola had slipped into the adjacent dining room to close the curtains.
Good idea. He pushed off his knees and padded over to the front window to tug the panels into place over the wide window. Impossible to see out into the thick whirl of the storm, but he shivered anyway. He knew he'd probably carry this hard ball of grief he felt to the end of his days. He was going to have to leave Jack.
But it was a steadying thing to know, because look at the good life he would have here. Much better than he could provide right now. Look at the kind family he would be a part of, and a well-built, pretty house of his own to live in. That helped to ease a bit of pain from his grief as he found the gumption to do what had to be done.
