Six

The wind blew something fierce that night. The storm shutters outside Sadie’s bedroom window had broken loose, and the banging woke Adam on three separate occasions.

At times, the wind sounded like a herd of mavericks running across the roof, and that worried her. The ranger had chinked the walls of the barn, but both roofs were beyond repair.

She lay in bed listening to the roar of the wind, and a distant noise made her sit up. Something…

Planting her feet on the bare wooden floor, she reached for the dressing gown at the foot of her bed. She shoved her arms into the sleeves and tiptoed from the room so as not to awaken Adam.

Reaching the kitchen, she lit a lamp and peered out the window. The rain beat against the glass pane, but it was too dark to see the source of the banging. Still, she had a pretty good idea where it was coming from.

Plucking Richard’s mackintosh off a wooden peg, she worked her arms into the overly long sleeves and donned her grandfather’s old Wellington boots. They were too big for her but offered some protection. Reaching for a box of safety matches, she lit a hurricane lantern.

Holding the lantern in one hand, she opened the door with the other. The wind blew the door clear out of her hand, and it banged against the outside wall. Rain pelted her like icy needles, and the wind threatened to knock her over. Head low, she stepped outside and battled the door shut.

Slipping and sliding in the rivers of mud, she made her way through the yard. It was just as she’d thought. The barn door had come unlatched. The wind simultaneously hurled it open and banged it shut. The sound of wood against wood had panicked the horses. She could hear them thrashing around in their stalls, their high-pitched whinnies bouncing off the barn’s beamed ceiling.

She would have to calm the horses before they harmed themselves. Setting the lantern inside the barn, she grabbed hold of the door with both hands. It was a heavy door, and the slick wet wood made the tug-of-war with the wind a losing battle.

A shadow loomed toward her and she jumped.

“It’s just me,” Cole shouted over the rain and frantic neighs. His shoulder pressed against hers as together they pulled the large, heavy door shut, closing themselves inside.

The barn was cold, but at least it was dry. So far the roof had held. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. Even though she was cold and wet, his presence helped. She tried not to stare at him, tried not to follow the rivulets of water running off his shoulders and down his bare chest to his trouser waist.

She shivered and his gaze sharpened. “You’re cold.” The concern in his voice matched the look on his face. “Go back to the house. I’ll calm the horses.”

“I should stay…” She pointed to her horse. “Daisy don’t…doesn’t…take kindly to strangers.”

“Okay, then,” Cole said, walking toward his horse’s stall. “Let’s make this quick.”

Seeing his owner, Hercules rose on his hind legs and pawed the air.

Letting herself into her horse’s stall, Sadie ran her hands along Daisy’s slick neck and back. The old mare trembled slightly beneath her touch and pressed her soft nose into Sadie’s hand.

“Good girl,” Sadie murmured softly, her attention directed at the stall next door and Cole’s soothing baritone voice.

After making sure Daisy had water and oats, Sadie checked Izzie, the cow, who appeared unfazed by the storm still raging outside.

After the animals were settled, Sadie followed Cole into the still-pounding rain. Her back toward the wind, she held the hurricane lantern while Cole battled the door shut and secured the latch.

Heads down, they started toward the house. A tree branch suddenly plunged to the ground, missing Sadie by mere inches.

Startled, she cried out and almost dropped the lantern.

Cole pulled her away from the fallen branch. “I’ve got you,” he yelled over the roar of the storm. “Come on.”

She buried her face against his wet shoulder, and his sturdy arm around her made her feel safe. It had been a long time since she’d felt so protected and secure.

Once inside the house, he helped her out of the dripping raincoat. She sat on the bench to pull off her boots, and he dropped on a knee to help her.

“You’re frozen,” he said, his eyes, his voice, filled with concern. After pulling off his own muddied boots, he said, “Wait here.” He left the room and returned a moment later with a fluffy white towel. He dried her face, his touch as gentle as a warm summer breeze. Tossing the damp towel aside, he reached for her hand and pulled her from the bench.

“The hem of your robe is wet. You better put on something dry.” His heated gaze lingered on her lips before lifting to her eyes. Something intense flared between them, something she dared not name.

“You too,” she whispered, trying not to think about his nearness.

He stepped closer and put his hands at her waist. “Sadie…” He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead slid his hands up her arms, drawing her so close she could feel his warm breath. Sense the pounding of his heart.

A moment of alarm flashed through her, but the tenderness of his touch was too tempting to pass up. Melting against him, she curled her hands upon his still-damp chest. He tightened his hold and her pulse quickened.

His lips on her forehead, followed by a series of warm shivery kisses down her face to her neck, made her forget her reservations. In that moment, nothing existed but the two of them. With a deep-rooted groan, he covered her mouth with his own, sending shockwaves of desire racing through her. His firm, moist lips demanded her full attention. No room existed for anything else.

They were both out of breath by the time their lips parted, but even then she didn’t want to let him go. She wanted their kiss to last forever.

He laughed softly. “As much as I hate to put an end to this, I believe Adam needs you.”

She drew in her breath, and that’s when she heard the faint cry in the distance. Normally, she heard Adam’s every sigh, but not this time.

He pressed his palm against her heated cheek. “I’ll go to him, if you want,” he murmured.

She shook her head and backed away, surprised at how hard it was to leave the comfort of his arms. “I’ll go.”

Dazed by what had just transpired between them, she left him standing in the mudroom.

It was only later, as she gazed out of her bedroom window at the black stormy night, that the full implication of what had happened hit her. She had kissed a man not her husband and had liked it. Liked it more than she’d ever thought possible. He made her feel pretty and desirable, and no one had ever made her feel that way before. Certainly not Richard.

“Oh, God!” She pounded a fist into the palm of her hand. It wouldn’t take that much to fall in love with Cole Bradshaw, but that she could never do. She had already loved and lost two men to the Texas Rangers. Never would she allow herself to love—and lose—another.