Clint was only too aware of four sets of eyes on him.He shifted slightly in his chair and saw Kate’s face, anxiety on her face.No one had ever looked at him like that before.He hated to think of how that look might turn to something else, like contempt.“I haven’t decided.”
“You have a job here if you want one,” Russ said.
Clint nodded a noncommittal acknowledgment of the offer, realizing that there was a hint of matchmaking going on here.He had been accepted as a suitor by Kate’s family, and while he might have felt pleasure under other circumstances, he felt plain ill now.
Moments later, Russ suggested that the two “young people” take a walk, and Clint couldn’t refuse without hurting Kate.That was something he simply couldn’t force himself to do, not with her cheeks flushing with embarrassment over the unsubtle hint.He rose and went to her chair, pulling it out for her.
The moon was nearly three-quarters full, gold rather than silver, and expectancy hung in the air, the kind that usually preceded a storm.There was also expectancy between the two of them, a tension relayed by their touching hands, an almost imperceptible squeeze of fingers, a responding tightening of clasp.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“About what?”
“My family’s … not so subtle matchmaking.”
His hand tightened unwillingly around hers.He couldn’t say he hadn’t noticed.He wasn’t good at lying.And that was the whole problem.At least one of them.
“You aren’t going to stay, are you?In Rushton?”
How did she know?Clint stopped and looked down at her.She was lovely in the moonlight, a wistful look on her face, a faraway gaze in her eyes.
“No,” he said.“My feet are tumbleweeds.They don’t stop for long.”
“You’ve been here nearly two years.”
His eyes met hers directly.“I’m a drifter, Kate.I’ve never been anything else, not since the war.”
He watched her swallow with difficulty, as if his words choked her.He felt the same thing happening to him.He wanted to kiss her so damn bad.But that was the last thing he should do.
“You never want to settle down?”
Yes.Now.He shook his head slowly.“I don’t think I can.”That was as direct as he could get.
She nodded, accepting his words, what she believed was his honesty.“I used to think I would like to travel.To go East.Or to San Francisco.”
Kate was trying so hard to make it easy for him.There had, after all, been little between them except glances, a few dances, conversation that, up to now, had come so easily to them, and … that instinct between two people that tells them something extraordinary is occurring.Clint hadn’t known it existed, and now it was too late for him.
“And now?”he said softly.
“Now I know this is where I belong, this land.These mountains.”
Clint felt it again, that attempt on her part to dismiss the implications of their previous words, as if she was reassuring him that his decisions were his, his life his.
If only…
“If only?”
Clint hadn’t realized he had uttered the words.He smiled down at her.“If only you weren’t so lovely.”
He saw her pleased look, that becoming blush coloring her face again.She truly didn’t know how pretty she was, he thought.
He couldn’t help himself.He moved closer to her, bent his head to touch her lips.She was like a lodestone to him, a magnet drawing him ever closer.
Her lips were soft, welcoming.Her skin was so incredibly soft, smelling delicately of roses.He wanted her as he’d never wanted anything in his life, had never thought he could want anything this desperately.
His lips played over hers lightly, and her mouth opened slightly to his.Her hand went to his arm, hovering there, as if uncertain what to do.That innocence was his undoing.His arms wrapped around her with gentle possession, and his lips moved along the delicate curves of her face, memorizing the pleasure of each touch, the quiet, satisfying joy of her response.
He rested his cheek against hers for a fraction of a second.“Oh, Kate,” he heard himself say.
