Stetsons, Spring and Wedding Rings

by Jillian Hart

  Her body betrayed her, her heart hammering fast and hard, her breath coming in shallow, quick puffs. Could he feel her reaction as he drew the coat over her breasts and secured the button? His touch felt shocking, for all its properness and the layers of clothing separating her skin from his touch. She felt as vulnerable as if she stood naked before him. What was happening to her?

  “You’ll need your muffler and hat.” He stole both from the wall pegs and draped the length of knit wool around her neck.

  His smile had changed. No longer jovial, intensely serious, it emphasized the sharp planes of his face, his high cheekbones and the firm square cut of his jaw. He plopped the knit cap on her head, and her hands caught his of their own volition, feeling the hard ridge of muscle and bone beneath his smooth, hot skin.

  Little fires flared through her, an awakening of both body and spirit. A stirring of heat and gentle feelings she’d never known before. This is not love, she told herself, stubbornly willing it to be so. She defiantly fought down the strange new affections. But they were so overwhelming, she might as well have been butter melting on a hot stove.

  “Will you come with me?” He held out his hand, palm up, waiting. His question rang low with a deeper meaning. A meaning that made her soul shiver and private places within her come alive. His baritone dipped, unfailingly intimate. “The night is waiting.”

  This is not love, she repeated, caught between wanting to stay safe alone in her cabin and needing to find out what awaited her on the starlit snow and in the chambers of Joseph’s heart. How did she choose? Both were perilous. Both would end in heartache. She bit her bottom lip, aware that it drew his gaze there.

  Was he thinking to kiss her? Her stomach dropped at the notion of kissing him back. Her lips tingled, craving something she did not know.

  Did she stay here and always wonder what if? To spend her days never sure what would have happened it she had accepted his offer?

  Or did she go with him, fearing it could not last? Did she seize what time she could, stealing happiness beneath the light of the moon?

  She didn’t know what came over her. “Let’s not keep the night waiting,” she said, and took his hand.

  Joseph steadied the sled at the crest of the slope, quaking in a way he never had before. Clara noted his every move. He could sense her gaze on him like a touch to his shoulders, to his back and to the side of his face. That she agreed to come was a hopeful sign. Kneeling down, he held the sled steady. “All aboard.”

  “The hill looks steeper than I remember.” Her skirts swished against his knee. “And far too rugged. Are you sure we won’t crash like a runaway train?”

  “No, I’m not sure at all. Crashing is a risk we are both going to have to take.” He took her hand, savoring the smile curving her mouth. “Sit right here. Feet forward, and hold on to the side here.”

  “This can’t be comfortable. I’ll fall off.”

  “I’ll hold you so you won’t.” He eased behind her, doing his best to keep the sled steady. “Are you starting to see how this goes?”

  “You’re going to put your arms around me, aren’t you?”

  “As long as you don’t object.” Sure, he could have let her slide down the hill all by herself, but how was he going to get closer to her that way? His legs embraced hers as he cradled her between his thighs. More intimate than on their horse ride the first evening they had met, and he couldn’t complain about that.

  No, not one bit. Her rosewater-and-soft-woman scent tantalized him as he wrapped one arm around her waist. The underside of her breasts rested against his forearm.

  You’re a gentleman, Joseph, he reminded himself, but his blood heated anyway. He might be refusing to imagine having the right to unbutton her dress and worship her breasts, but his body responded anyway with a desire so strong, his vision blurred. All common sense fled.

  “Are you ready?” he murmured against her ear. The silk of her hair and the satin of her skin captured him like a spell, binding him to her with a tie so fierce it could never be broken.

  “You’ll hold on tight to me?”

  “I won’t let go.” He pushed off with his free hand, and the sled bumped over sharp rises and dips before hovering on the brink of the hill’s edge.

  “Maybe I’m thinking to change my mind about this.” She gripped the worn wooden sides tighter. “Could you stop?”

  “I could, but then you would miss this.” His words puffed against the side of her face, intimate and tantalizing. “Look up.”

  Silvered light drew a path down the hillside, making the snow gleam like a dark opal. Shades of navy blue and purple made the shadows mysterious and beautiful, transforming the landscape.

  Joseph’s arms around her could not be the reason she felt as if she’d walked into a fairy tale. Her world had never been so beautiful. Dark stands of snow-capped trees towered like watchful sentries as the sled dipped downward, gathering speed. Time paused right along with her heartbeat as the sled bumped upward and took flight.

  “Whatever happens,” Joseph whispered, “keep your eyes open. You don’t want to miss a moment.”

  Gravity grabbed hold of the runners, hurling the sled downward, and downward still. She lost her breath. Airless, she clung to the sled, safely wrapped tight in Joseph’s arms and tucked against his thighs and chest. Wind snapped against her face, burning her cheeks and blurring her vision. A single bump rocked through the sled as the runners hit the ground again. Tiny airy wisps of snow whirled up from the blades, and the rush of wind filled her ears.

  “Isn’t this fun?” Joseph’s lips brushed her cheek when he spoke.

  Thrilling. Exhilarating. Safe. She felt the tiny coils of tension at the base of her skull release. Common sense left her as simply as the hillside behind them. She felt weightless as the stars hovering in the flawless sky, as free as the sled speeding down dips and over bumps in the hillside, sending them into midair again.

  “Hold on!” Joseph called out, laughing. His deep chuckle rolled through her, one ocean wave after the next, beating at the gates to her heart. The moon brightened in the sky, dancing and twirling as the sled listed to the left, unseating them, and they were falling together, she and Joseph. The snow seemed to reach out and welcome them, cushioning their landing. His laughter shivered through her as he hit the ground first, taking the brunt of the blow with his shoulder and rolling to keep her in his arms.

  She came to rest on his chest, laid out over him. His hat was gone. Her cap was falling into her eyes. Was that her laughter floating on the silent wind, joy warming her like midsummer?

  “Are you all right?” Joseph asked, concern on his face and love in his eyes.

  “I’m great.” Tiny shards of ice melted against the back of her neck and seared her face. Although Joseph cocooned her, his arms holding her firmly on top of him, she still felt as if she were soaring. Her laughter mingled with his. “I’m fantastic.”

  “I told you, didn’t I?” His words were deep, layered with meaning. “You are beautiful in the moonlight, Clara. More beautiful than any woman could ever be.”

  “I don’t know what has become of my common sense. I think I left it on the top of the hill, or how else would I have wound up this way?”

  “In my arms?”

  “Crashed a few yards away from the garden fence.”

  “At least we didn’t crash into the fence.” He pulled off his glove and gently brushed tangled wisps from her eyes. “We ought to be counting our blessings.”

  His touch scattered her senses and made it impossible to think straight. She ought to pull away, but his tenderness mesmerized her. Held captive, she savored the brush of his fingertips on her temple. The sweep of his thumb as he chased bits of snow from her cheek. It took all her effort to force her tongue to work.

  “Which blessings should we be counting?”

  “That we are here together.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip.

  “Yes. Together.” Awash in sweet sensation, Clara sig
hed when his thumb scorched a trail along the bow of her upper lip. His gaze settled on her mouth. Desire quaked through her, the wish for just one kiss.

  “And since you are here with me like this…” He paused to draw his thumb down the center of her lips to her chin, tilting her face toward his. “There is one thing I must do before I let you sled down the hill again.”

  “You think I’m going to want to do that again?” She meant to be coy, to tease, but her words came out breathless and vulnerable, betraying the sweet pulse of want filling her in slow, steady beats.

  “Sure,” he mumbled, slanting his mouth over hers. “If we want to land just like this.”

  His lips claimed hers in a brush of a kiss, a velvet-warm promise of more to come. Dazed, she clutched his coat, holding on. A little dizzy, a little captivated, she fought to catch her breath. He pulled away to search her gaze, and she read a depth of caring there in his eyes, a powerful caring, one that she had never known in her life. He wasn’t assuming; he was making sure that she wasn’t merely accepting his kiss but hungering for it, too.

  Again, her heart pleaded. As if his heart clearly heard, his eyes deepened to a shade darker than the sky. A hint of a smile was his only answer. This time when his lips found hers, there was no tentative caress, no thoughtful introduction. Her fingers curled into his woolen jacket, and it was as if gravity loosened its hold on her. She was airborne once more, lost in the explosive stroke of his mouth to hers.

  With only his arms to anchor her, she fit her lips to his, her heart afire. Sweetness filled her, as weightless as a summer cloud.

  Never had she felt so much before, as if she were about to come apart at the seams. The tenderness she felt for him was too large to keep inside her, so beautiful it brought tears to her eyes. Hot and salty, they slid down her cheeks, uncontrolled, and still she could not bear to let his lips leave hers.

  “It was my first kiss, too.” His confession shivered through her, spoken as they breathed the same air. She felt as if their hearts were synchronized; as if nothing could ever go back to being the same without him.

  “Do you want to do that again?” he asked.

  “The kiss or the sledding?”

  “I have a mind to do both.” He took her hand in his, so big and sheltering, when hers was so small.

  This was the man she never dreamed she could find. The man she thought she would never have. Both strong and tender, both fun and serious, but there was more to the dream. If Joseph were truly meant for her, if there was such a thing as one true love, then he would be forever committed to her. His love for her would be greater than a single kiss, but grand enough to last eternally. Was it possible any man could love her that way?

  Doubt crept into her. She felt the air cool on her skin. The moonlight seemed to fade a notch. Dampness blew on the changing wind and she felt a drip in the middle of her back followed by a second.

  “It’s a warming wind, the Chinook.” He sounded as surprised and as breathless as she.

  All around them the forest came alive. Snow dropped from thousands of tree branches and the merry sound rolled through the mountain valley like a celebration. Ice began to melt in joyful melodies. An owl swooped past, gliding on widespread wings.

  “We might be lucky to get one more run.” He helped her up and brushed a chunk of snow from the hem of her skirt. “But it looks like that’s the last we can expect.”

  “Too bad. I think I like sledding.”

  “Me, too. The end of one thing is the start of another. How about a buggy ride tomorrow?”

  “I believe I have plans. Or, rather, Mrs. Baker has plans for me.” The top layer of snow felt soft around her shoes. Things were changing in the night and in her heart as Joseph drew her into his arms.

  “Just in case the sledding is a bust, I had best collect my kiss now.” His smile became hers, slanting over her lips, stroking sweetness through her, leaving her breathless. With every slow caress of his mouth to hers, great tenderness built within her.

  Tucked against his chest, enfolded in his arms, hope began to stretch as wide as the sky. Love, whole and unbidden, bloomed within her, bringing fresh tears to her eyes.

  A distant sound registered somewhere at the back of her mind, growing louder as Joseph ended the kiss. He left her sparkling from head to toe, aching with new love for him. Nothing was dearer than the grin dimpling his mouth or the contented sigh rumbling through his chest as he drew her more tightly against him. The reliable, fast thump-thump against her cheek told her what he couldn’t say. He was carried away, too.

  The distant sound became more clear to her as her senses returned. Someone was calling Joseph’s name.

  “My pa.” His smile faded as he released her. Taking his time, he righted her hat and kissed her forehead sweetly. “He must need me.”

  “Go.” She hated stepping away from him. She despised drawing in the strings of her heart and letting him leave. Her common sense would surely kick in any moment now, and she would stop aching for the sensation of another kiss and the intimate, wonderful shelter of his arms. “Please, don’t keep him waiting.”

  “I wish—” He didn’t finish that thought, but he gazed to the east, to some unseen place where stars shimmered and snow-capped mountains glowed. “Tomorrow, I’ll be coming for you.

  Don’t forget.”

  “But I have work to do.”

  “Yes, I’m well aware of that, beautiful.” He captured her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. He brushed a kiss to her knuckles, as courtly as the best prince in the most romantic fairy tale. “Let me walk you home.”

  “No, you go to your father. I can find my way.” Perhaps on the short path around the stand of cedars and between the garden fence she would find the practical young woman she had been less than an hour ago. With every step she took on the moon-washed trail, she hoped to find her good sense and the plain girl who would never have fallen in love over a few kisses.

  Great kisses, true. No, fantastic kisses, she corrected as the lamplight from her front window came into sight. Her nape prickled and, feeling Joseph’s gaze, she spun, her skirts swishing, her feelings rising to a crescendo as their gazes met and melded.

  Across the span of opalescent snow, she felt treasured. As if she were the most beautiful of women, the most beloved princess, cherished above all things. That was how Joseph made her feel.

  Impulsively she blew him a kiss before dashing into her warm home. Even in the stillness, she no longer felt alone.

  Chapter Seven

  “Aren’t you supposed to be out checking on the herd?”

  Joseph winced at the amusement in his mother’s voice. Just how much did Ma know? And did she know it or simply suspect it? He glanced around the parlor for any sign of Clara and, finding none, went to glance down the hallway.

  Ma watched him thoughtfully from her chair, where she was sorting through her new embroidery threads.

  “I went out early.” Truth was, he had been up before the chickens, riding in the wet, harsh mountain conditions. Rain might be falling, but it was snowing in the higher pastures. There was no sign of Clara in the library. “I’ve got a few things to do in town before the branding starts.”

  “A few things?” Ma arched one brow and her face looked as if she were fighting to hold back a grin. “Last I heard, you and your pa had more than that planned. You two were thick into it when I headed to bed last night. Guess you and he had a discussion about your land?”

  “I guess we did.” Truth was, it was a long discussion. He stopped at the base of the stairs. Was Clara up there?

  “Seems you are eager to start making a few changes around here.” Ma was trying to pry into his business. No doubt about that.

  It wouldn’t be the first time. He retraced his path to the parlor.

  “I’ve heard word that you may have written away for a bride for one of us. Any truth to that?”

  “There’s nothing for you to worry about.” If Ma looked anxious, it was a pass
ing thing. She straightened her shoulders, as if she had made up her mind about something. “Everything works out the way it’s meant to anyhow. Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “That wasn’t an answer, Ma.” One thing was clear. He wouldn’t allow Clara to get hurt. “There’s no one coming for me?”

  “I told you not to worry, son.” Did Ma look a tad guilty?

  Maybe it was the light or his imagination because it disappeared as soon as she glanced out the window. “Clara’s already outside, waiting for a ride, I suspect. Go on, now. She’s a nice girl and could use a little help.”

  “Thanks, Ma.” He tipped his hat in goodbye, ending the conversation, and headed out the door and down the steps. Plans filled his head, ones that were as real as the sludge of snow, rain and mud at his feet, as hopeful as the leaves waving on bared branches. Sparrows and finches winged by as he looked up the walkway, and his emotions rose as easily when he spotted Clara.

  She stood at the end of the daffodil-lined path near Don Quixote, who was saddled, and Bucky, who was hitched to the buggy. The way she looked held him spellbound.

  Gosh, talk about a sight. Clara’s yellow-checked dress ruffle swirled and swayed beneath her old coat as she hurried toward him. Her sunshine-gold hair crowned her head in a single braid, and he swore she was twice as beautiful today in the rain as she had been last night, graced by star shine.

  When she noticed him waiting for her, she transformed. Happiness put color in her face and magic in her eyes. She swept toward him, bringing the memory of last night with her. His mouth buzzed, remembering the sweet surrender of her kiss. His skin sensitized, and he felt tingling and hot, recalling the amazing thrill of holding her against his chest. Love hit him like a thunderclap and he was helpless to stop it.

  “I’m surprised to see you here, stranger.” She stopped with a swirl of her skirt, rainwater dancing between them. “Mrs. Baker told me a horse and buggy would be waiting for me, but I didn’t imagine you would be harnessing the horse for me.”