by Jody Hedlund
Of course, not now. Not with Astrid here.
But surely there was no question she cared for him. She’d been able to feel it swelling within her over the past few days of his absence. She’d missed him more than she could explain—even to herself. And now that he was here, she didn’t want him to leave.
Next to her, Astrid coughed—just lightly—but enough for Greta to know her sister would soon be fully awake.
As if realizing the same, Wyatt started to back away. Before he could get too far, she gripped a fistful of his shirt and tugged him closer. With the momentum, she pressed forward and lifted into him, letting her mouth touch his.
At her offering, he faltered. Had she been too rash in seeking out another kiss? She started to back away, but he released a soft groan and let his lips fuse with hers, moving against her hungrily and without restraint.
The passion stirred a hunger inside her as well as a realization that this intimacy with her husband wasn’t merely a duty she had to endure. She longed to be with Wyatt, wanted to be closer, desired him.
At a giggling from Astrid beside her, Greta toppled from a world of bliss back to reality. She wrenched away from Wyatt, trying to put as much distance and dignity between them as possible, especially when Astrid propped on her elbow and stared up at them.
“It’s okay,” Astrid remarked happily. “You don’t have to stop on account of me.”
Wyatt shot up from the edge of the bed, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck and clearing his throat.
Greta’s face burned, and she had the urge to step outside and cool off. She opted for pressing her hands against her cheeks.
“If you keep kissing,” Astrid continued, “maybe we’ll have two babies instead of one.”
“Astrid,” Greta reprimanded. “Polite young ladies don’t talk about such things.”
“I’m not polite. I’m a rancher.”
Through the dim lighting, she could see Wyatt’s lips quirk into a half smile as they usually did at Astrid’s bold statements. The comments only served to remind Greta of the uncomfortable predicament she and Wyatt had gotten themselves into with the false pregnancy news. She still hadn’t figured out how to graciously unravel the misunderstanding.
At a soft whine from a box on the floor, Astrid sat up. “What’s that?”
“Got something for you.” Wyatt stepped out of the room and returned a moment later with a lantern. After hooking it on a nail in the rafter, he bent over the crate and picked up a furry bundle.
“A kitten?” Astrid’s voice rose with excitement.
“Nope. Couldn’t find any kittens.” Wyatt approached the bed, petting the creature in his arms. “But I did find this little fella.”
He lowered the bundle into Astrid’s lap, and a black-and-white puppy stared up at her with innocent and curious black eyes, his tiny nose sniffing the air, as if trying to discover his whereabouts and who Astrid was.
“Oh my.” Astrid’s eyes widened.
“He’s adorable.” Greta stroked the puppy’s head and earned a lick.
Astrid followed Greta’s example, and the puppy licked her too. “I think he likes us.”
“I’m sure he’ll love you.” Wyatt reached down and scratched the dog’s back.
“I hope so.” Astrid did the same. “I know I’ll love him.”
Wyatt smiled, and his gaze flitted up to Greta’s as if he wanted to share the precious moment with her. Her heart swelled with a sense of contentment and joy she’d never known before.
“What’s his name?” Astrid asked.
“He ain’t got one yet.” Wyatt straightened and crossed his arms, which emphasized his muscles and the broadness of his chest.
“He needs to have a name.” Astrid grew braver and scratched at the puppy’s neck.
“Then you oughta pick one. A name fit for a mighty fine cow dog.”
“He’s a cow dog?”
“Yep. He’ll help us with herding and chasing cattle down and keeping ’em from wandering off.”
The puppy stood on wobbly legs, his ears perking and his snout lifting. Astrid touched the puppy’s nose and earned another lick. “Won’t he get hurt by the cattle?”
“Nope, he’ll be faster than greased lightning.”
“Good.”
The pup wagged his tail and watched Astrid expectantly, as though ready for her to give him a name, but he was more likely waiting for her to feed him.
For a few seconds she stroked the pup, and Greta’s heart ached at how thin and pale Astrid was getting. Though Greta tried to ply her sister with food, nothing appealed to the girl. Her appetite was gone, and she was losing weight at a frightening pace.
Greta had wanted so badly for the Colorado air to provide the cure for the consumption. But after the past months of mountain living and an only worsening condition, she finally had to accept that the climate wasn’t helping Astrid. The move had been useless.
“What if I call him Chase?” Astrid asked.
“Chase. Sounds about right.” Wyatt scratched the pup and was rewarded with a happy yip.
Astrid laughed. “I think he likes it.”
The puppy yipped again, earning more of Astrid’s laughter, ending in a fit of coughing that left her breathless.
As Astrid lay back, weak and pale, Greta smoothed her sister’s hair off her face and pressed a cool rag on her forehead. Astrid pushed Greta’s hand away and struggled to sit back up.
“Don’t overdo it.”
Clearly sensing her worry, Wyatt scooped up the pup. “I’ll take Chase out to do his business and let him run around.”
Greta smiled her thanks, but Astrid protested. “No. Please don’t take him from me.”
“Don’t you worry none.” Wyatt repositioned the squirming pup. “He’ll get tuckered out and be ready for some shut-eye in no time.”
While Wyatt was gone with the new puppy, Greta tried to feed Astrid a little supper and made her drink some tea. But Astrid was distracted and wouldn’t rest until the puppy was back on the bed snuggled up against her. When the two were asleep, Greta crept from the room, hoping to see Wyatt one last time before he retired to the barn.
Her heartbeat sped at the sight of him sitting at the table, whittling with his pocketknife. At her appearance, he looked up at her and let his knife grow idle. For the first time since he’d returned, she let herself get a good look at him.
He was oh-so-handsome. With his hat off, she could see his dark hair was cropped short after a recent cut Judd had given him. His face was bronzed and in need of a shave. And his dark brows furrowed over his rich brown eyes. “She’s getting worse, ain’t she?” he asked softly.
Greta didn’t want to burden him with Astrid’s health, especially first thing after getting home from a long trip, but she had to say something. “She’s having another flare-up.”
Wyatt studied her face as though seeing past her answer to the truth. “What more can we do for her?”
She hesitated and then sighed. “I don’t know.” To avoid his probing gaze, she headed to the stove, where she’d left a pot of soup simmering. She ladled out a bowl and brought it to him along with biscuits and a jar of plum jam.
She spun away to pour him a mug of coffee, but he snagged her hand and prevented her from going. “Wait.”
For a second, she didn’t want to face him, too afraid he’d ask her more questions and discover just how bad Astrid’s consumption was. But when he laced his fingers through hers, his solid hold seemed to reassure her that everything would be alright, that he would be here to support and help her, that she wasn’t alone.
Slowly, she turned to face him.
He focused on their intertwined hands. “I brought something back for you.”
“I saw the plums.” She glanced by the door to the basket filled with the wild fruit. “Thank you for finding them for me.” Maybe this time she’d have to save the profits for herself . . . just in case she took Astrid to the hospital in Denver.
&nb
sp; He shrugged. “I found a couple of trees, and it didn’t take long to pick ’em clean.”
“And thank you for the puppy for Astrid. I know she’s been wanting a kitten, but I think the dog is actually a better pet for her right now.”
“I’ll get her a kitten too. But she might have to wait ’til spring.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Every barn needs a cat or two.”
“True enough.”
His fingers tightened against hers, sending a shiver down her backbone. When he rubbed his thumb over her hand, all she could think about was the kisses they’d shared in the bedroom and how much she liked them. Did he want to kiss her again?
Her breath stuck in her throat at the possibility. If he made the least move to do so, she wouldn’t resist.
“It’s not the plums or the puppy. It’s something else.” In the next heartbeat, he tugged her down. She shifted to sit on the bench next to him, but he guided her so that she found herself on his lap, her shoulder brushing his brawny chest. Her fingers tingled with the memory of running her hands so boldly over his shoulders and arms. Being so near only made her want to do it again. Yet she didn’t dare do something so brazen and held herself stiffly, uncertain what to expect.
He dug into his inner vest pocket and pulled out a small item. “I had a last little nugget of gold I’ve been hanging on to. And I finally figured out what I wanted to use it for.”
Her pulse pattered to a stop and a sputter of worry took up rhythm instead.
“I was planning on waiting a couple more weeks to give it to you. But now’s as fitting a time as any.” He lifted her left hand and slipped off the wedding band Mr. Steele had given to them. Wyatt’s expression was grave, his concentration intense, which made the drumbeat of worry inside pound louder.
He placed the old band on the table. Then he held her hand and slipped on the new.
“Oh my.” She took in the gold band engraved with twisted leaves that alternated green and yellow gold. “It’s beautiful.”
“Are you sure? The store in Leadville had slim pickings, but I was hoping it’d be alright.”
She held out her hand and examined it, marveling at the intricacies of the engravings and the beauty of the colors together. It was perfect, and she couldn’t have chosen anything better or more fitting. In the same breath of delight, she shook her head. “I love it, but I can’t accept it. It’s too nice. Much too nice.”
“I want to—”
“And I’m sure it was too expensive. You need the money for other things.”
“Nothin’ that can’t wait.”
“No, Wyatt. I don’t deserve something like this. Really, I don’t—”
He silenced her by leaning in and covering her lips with his. As before, the touch was tender and made her forget about everything but the connection with him—one that plied open her lips as much as her heart.
This man . . . Who would have guessed how swiftly and completely she’d come to care about him? Not only was she attracted to every aspect of his good-looking body, but she loved everything about him from how sweet he was to Astrid to how hard he worked on the ranch. He had so many good qualities and was a better husband to her than she could have dreamed of having.
She suspected she never would have had this kind of relationship with Phineas Hallock had she married him, especially this kind of attraction, passion, and desire. She didn’t know much about marriage, but she knew these feelings for Wyatt and this bond developing between them were special.
Just how special was it?
The question startled her enough that she pulled back. He didn’t press in and attempt to continue, but his lips brushed her cheek, then her chin line, then the tender spot where her neck met her jaw.
She gasped and shifted to give him all the room he needed. His arms slid around her as though he couldn’t bear to let her go. She wanted to assure him he had nothing to worry about, that she’d never leave. But how could she make that promise?
As his kiss moved to her ear, his breath, his presence, his power seemed to surround her, and she closed her eyes as heat swirled inside. He placed a kiss into the hollow of her ear before grazing downward. She clutched his shirt, trying to keep from drowning in the sensations his touch was awakening inside her.
At a rattle of the door, she released him. In the next instant, Judd stepped into the cabin, and she jumped up from Wyatt’s lap, forcing him to let her go. For a second, she stood motionless attempting to gain her bearings.
Judd’s bushy white brows arched high as his gaze swung between Wyatt and her. “Came to get grub. Guess I can wait.”
“No.” Greta rushed to the stove, mortification pummeling her. “I have soup and biscuits ready.” As she stood in front of the stove, she pressed her hands against her cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin.
Behind her, Judd’s boots thumped in an uneven gait across the floor. He paused halfway in.
She reached for a bowl from the shelf next to the stove, then scooped soup inside. His steps resumed until he reached the table and pulled out the bench with a scrape.
At the oomph he made sitting down, she released a shaky breath. Once the bowl was full and the plate piled with biscuits, she twirled the ladle in the pot. Wyatt’s slurp filled the silence.
Why was she so embarrassed? She hadn’t done anything wrong by kissing Wyatt. And it didn’t matter that Judd had seen them. They had every right to be kissing if that’s what they wanted to do. Didn’t they?
Straightening her shoulders, she breathed in and then turned, walked across the room, and placed the bowl and plate in front of Judd, all the while avoiding looking either of the men in the face.
Wyatt didn’t pause in his eating, and Judd mumbled his thanks as she scurried back to the stove. She picked up the mug but then almost dropped it.
“Fixin’ to head out tomorrow and cut more timber.”
“Good idea,” Wyatt said through a bite of biscuit. “We’ll be needing the fuel come winter.”
“Not for fuel. For another room.”
Greta started to pour the coffee but then halted. Wyatt grew abruptly silent. And, of course, Judd didn’t elaborate.
What was he implying? That she and Wyatt needed their own room now?
Oh my. Her hand shook and coffee sloshed over the rim. She set the mug down and wiped her hand on her apron, a flush rising into her face once more.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “Reckon we’ll need the space come summer when Flynn and the kids get here.”
His words sent an icy splash against Greta, causing a chill to skitter over her skin. Wyatt’s family was coming.
“You’ll be needin’ a room long before that.”
Greta had no doubt now what Judd was referring to, but the warmth from moments ago had dissipated, leaving confusion in its place. She couldn’t allow these feelings for Wyatt to deepen, not when he had his family to think about. She wouldn’t add to his worries and responsibilities, not when he needed to be there for his siblings in their time of greatest need.
Besides, she had to keep Astrid her priority. Greta had come west to save her little sister, and she couldn’t forget that. No matter the personal sacrifice, she had to do whatever she could to save the child’s life. And what other option did she have but to take Astrid to Denver and seek additional help?
Chapter 18
Wyatt shoveled another forkful of hay into the loose net hanging from the wall. At the sound of childish laughter outside in the corral, he paused and glanced through the open barn doors to where Judd was leading Astrid around on their mare, the gentlest of their horses, a bay Morgan crossbreed named Dolly.
The new pup raced after the horse, scampering and falling and getting right back up. Although Astrid had wanted to carry Chase in the saddle with her, Judd squashed that idea faster than a bug, explaining how the pup wouldn’t turn into a good cow dog if she took to coddling him. So he’d doubled the horse lesson with dog training, and
now the pup’s antics were making Astrid laugh.
Astrid’s laughter—along with the fact that she was out of bed—eased the tightness from Wyatt’s chest. She was still pale and thin and delicate, but the coughing had lessened, and she was eating more.
Yesterday, after he and Judd had arrived home from cutting timber, she’d been sitting outside in the sunshine braiding the cornhusks Greta had saved and dried. When Wyatt asked what she was making, she proudly displayed the round braided mat Greta had finished and placed just outside the door.
Today, when he and Judd had ridden in with the two teams of oxen dragging another batch of trunks, Astrid had already saddled Dolly and pleaded with Judd for another riding lesson. She hadn’t needed to plead since Judd would have pushed her to California in a wheelbarrow if she’d have asked him.
Wyatt had gladly taken over the responsibility of unhitching the teams, stacking the logs, and now taking care of the evening chores so Judd could spend time with Astrid. They’d both learned to take advantage of her good days, because they were infrequent and didn’t last long.
From the way she was riding Dolly, she probably didn’t need any more lessons. In fact, from the first time Judd had hoisted her up, she’d been a natural. But with her being sick and weak, Judd was only right to be cautious.
Wyatt cast a glance to the sky. The sun hung low and the shadows were long, meaning daylight would give way to night soon. The air contained a dampness that hinted at colder weather moving in.
Was it wrong for him to wish for rain so tomorrow he could stick closer to the ranch? While he and Judd had felled a decent number of trees, they had several more days of hard work before they’d have enough to add a second level to the cabin.
He let his gaze stray to the cabin, hoping for a glimpse of Greta, but she was avoiding him and had been ever since the night he’d arrived home and kissed her. Steele hadn’t been around to force him into it. The honest truth was that he’d done it of his own will and had enjoyed every sweet second. And sure as a gun, if Judd hadn’t come in, he wouldn’t have stopped.
Maybe he’d rushed her that night, pushed for more than she was ready to give. Now he’d gone and made things awkward between them. Sure, she was busy making the last batch of jam from the plums he’d brought her, but she was also hiding.
