Her middle tightened. They’d not discussed whether anyone should be brought into confidence about their pretendunion. It might be all right if Sampson knew. But what if he told someone else, someone who reported back to Jedidiah?
Jedidiah would tell Father, and not only would Father be livid—possibly enough to harm Gil. He would also force her to marry Stuart Wallace.
Father’s snores ceased. He’d be coming soon.
As she selected the portions of bacon and potatoes he would like best, the rustle of her own bed curtain sounded.
She glanced over as Gil pulled the cloth aside and stepped out. He still wore that sleepy look, his hair tousled and his eyes squinting a little.
Her heart pumped a little faster.
He was so handsome, but in the morning before he came fully to life, something about him made her want to plant a kiss on his cheek. Actually, she’d much rather press her lips to his—they looked so full and supple right now. A peck on the cheek would be more acceptable though, given their situation.
As though he’d heard her thoughts, Gil walked right up to her, not stopping beside the stove but moving behind her. When his hands rested on her sides, she froze. All except her heart, which surged like a runaway horse, pulling free of the bit in a reckless gallop.
Gil’s stubble-roughened jaw brushed against the sensitive skin beneath her ear, and his warm breath caressed her cheek as he pressed a lingering kiss there.
She’d been right. His lips were full and supple this morning.
“Good morning, wife.” His voice graveled in that sleepy tone that made her knees weaken. If not for his hands at her sides, she might melt into a puddle right there.
She wanted to lean back into his solid warmth, to lose herself in his embrace, but a thud from Father's room startled her back to reality.
Gil's hands fell away, and he stepped back just as Father emerged, yawning.
"Morning," Father grunted, his gaze flicking between them with a sharpness that belied his sleepy appearance.
Jess turned back to the stove, focusing on dishing up breakfast with hands that trembled more than they ought.
Gil returned Father’s greeting, and the chairs scraped as the men sat at the table.
She brought over their plates at the same time instead of bringing Father’s meal and coffee at the same time. Would he notice the change? The way she was elevating Gil to the same preference she gave Father?
Gil met her eyes as she set his plate in front of him. That warm brown gaze held hers as a smile curved the corners of his mouth. “Thank you.”
Father picked up his fork and speared a potato. "Bring me some coffee, daughter."
With effort, she broke the connection with Gil, then turned to retrieve both mugs. Was it worth riling her father to make it clear Gil’s importance in her life? He needed to believe their story. Yet, she knew well the danger in angering Mick McPharland.
After filling her own plate, she sat at the table with the men. Gil had said he wanted her to be part of meals, so she might as well join them before he had to ask her to. When she was settled at her place, she realized what a treat it was to eat at the table while the others did, not steal snippets of bacon in between her work while her father ate. It wasn’t as hard to relax with Father when Gil was also here, his comfortable gaze flicking to hers, the hint of a smile when their eyes met.
Throughout breakfast, Father peppered Gil with questions about his family and life on the ranch. Gil answered in his usual easygoing manner. He’d told her about his brothers and the wives of the three older ones, but she hadn’t heard about all the other people who lived on the ranch. His niece and nephew, thesister of his brother Jericho’s wife, as well as the sister’s husband and their two daughters.
It must feel like a small town with so many of them.
She couldn’t imagine having so many women close by. Were there rivalries and gossip, or did they get along like best friends? Would they welcome her? Or keep her at a distance? They were all family, after all.
She’d always wanted a sister, someone who would be a friend she could confide in. Yet, she’d also learned things often didn’t turn out the way she imagined them. If for some unfathomable reason she were settled near Gil’s ranch, having his sisters-in-law nearby could be frustrating or downright miserable.
Or, it could be everything she’d ever dreamed.
"So, what are you two planning for today?" Father dropped his fork beside his empty plate and leaned back in his chair.
His words tightened a knot in her middle. His expression didn’t hold censure, but she knew well he was asking because they’d gone in the caves yesterday—an action that she hadn’t mentioned when he’d asked their plans yesterday morning.
She worked for a casual tone. "I need to get back to those winter shirts I was making. We might take the work down to the creek where the lighting is good."
Father’s eyes narrowed. "Might want to stay out of the caves then."
