Eight

When they reached the ranch, instead of riding on as Amanda had hoped, Seth insisted on staying with them all the way to the house and helping Jim carry the prospector inside. Of course, that prompted her mother to insist that Seth stay for the noon meal, although Amanda had not missed the way her mother’s eyebrows had lifted in surprise at the sight of him riding alongside the wagon. Ginny and Addie arrived shortly after they had gotten the old man settled. Amanda made sure she stayed close to Addie, fetching whatever she might need to treat the prospector’s wounds. But once Addie had pronounced the man in critical condition, Amanda worried that she had not done enough.

“You did what you could,” Addie assured her. “Now come, eat something. There’s nothing more we can do here.”

Seth sat across from her at the table, wolfing down Juanita’s menu of chicken enchiladas with rice and beans, announcing this might be the best meal he’d had since leaving home.

“And where is ‘home’ exactly, Mr. Grover?” Amanda’s mother delivered the question with a tone of polite conversation, but also a piercing glance that told everyone paying attention that she intended to gather information about Seth Grover.

“Chicago,” he replied.

That launched Addie into a long stroll down memory lane of the days she and Jess had spent there on their honeymoon. “I got my medical license there,” she told Seth. “An actual license.”

“Congratulations,” Seth said, and flashed her those dimples.

Amanda pushed away from the table. “I just want to… I just… Excuse me, please.”

She fled the room, reaching the open courtyard and gulping in fresh air as if it were manna from heaven. I cannot breathe when that man is around, she thought, and then she gasped. He quite literally takes my breath away.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, get a grip,” she muttered as she stalked off toward the creek and plopped down on a flat rock. But it was true. Seth Grover did not need to be within ten feet of her to feel his presence, see his handsome face, imagine what it might be like if they were to…

“Amanda? Are you unwell?”

She did wish people would stop asking that as she turned to see Jim Matthews coming her way and forced herself to work up a smile. “I’m fine,” she said, and patted a place on the boulder next to her. “I guess the chaos of the last few hours became a little overwhelming. Join me?”

He sat down next to her. “Addie says Jess sent word to Fort Lowell. Since the range is under their jurisdiction, they’ll send somebody to question the patient about what happened—if he makes it.”

“And they’ll want to question me as well, I expect.”

“No. Jess kept you out of it. Your mother suggests you stay the night, but Ginny and I should be getting back.”

Amanda nodded. “I’m so glad you came along when you did, Jim. I really don’t know what…” She fought the tears she tried to hide with her smile.

Jim wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him so her head rested on his shoulder. “You would have figured it out, but I’m glad I could be there.”

It had been a long time since she had felt so comforted, so safe. And the fact that Jim didn’t seem inclined to take advantage of her vulnerable state made her like the man all the more. Maybe she was being foolish in rejecting the idea of allowing their friendship to blossom into something more.

“You and Ginny have a long trip ahead of you,” she said as she sat up and faced him. “You should probably get started.”

He nodded, but made no move to leave. “Amanda, about Ginny’s mother…”

It was a statement out of the blue. “Your wife,” she confirmed, realizing that a romance with Jim Matthews came with its own problems.

“When she left us, Ginny was only six. I had no idea where Essie had gone, or if she might return, so I took things day by day, waiting and trying to make sure Ginny and my boys understood that their mother’s leaving had nothing to do with them.”

“You’re telling me that she’s been gone—what? Ten or twelve years?”

“Eleven, to be exact.”

“And in all that time, you never…”

“I wrote to her regularly in care of a sister in California, but never got an answer. Her sister would remember birthdays and send Christmas greetings, but never a word about Essie. And then two years ago, a package came with the news that Essie had died, killed in an avalanche on her way to Oregon.”

“How horrible. What was in the package?”

“Some personal items—her Bible, a few trinkets of jewelry, and a picture of Ginny as a baby.” He drew in a long breath. “Until now, there seemed to be no reason to tell others about Essie’s passing. Ginny and I had settled into a good life. Still, it’s past time for Ginny to follow her dreams and find a man who will love her. But I know she worries about me. I’ve tried to assure her I’ll be fine, but the truth is I’ve been dreading letting her go.”

“She won’t be gone altogether. My mother has always said that…”

“I know.” He played with a small stone, rolling it around in his hand, coating his palm with the red dust that covered it. “Look, I know we’ve just met and spent very little time together, and it’s far too soon to consider that there might be something beyond friendship for us, but…if Ginny thought I had found…”

She did not understand why, but she knew she had to stop him from saying more. She placed her hand on his, trapping the stone between their palms. “Jim, you are someone I know I can rely upon. I am so grateful for the help you have given me with the Baxter twins, and I truly look forward to working with you on the jailhouse project, and…please, can we let it be just that for now?”

He smiled, but kept his eyes on her hand, now covering his. “Yes. All right.” He turned her palm up and placed the stone in it. “A symbol of our everlasting friendship,” he said before pushing himself to his feet. “Ginny and I will see you back in Tucson,” he added, and walked away.

Amanda watched him go and saw her mother observing the scene from the courtyard. Constance Porterfield would have questions about her relationship with James, but she would not raise them. She would simply let her personal preference for James over Seth be known through veiled statements and comments about what a solid citizen he appeared to be and how she still had her doubts about Seth. But in the end, when it came to matters of the heart, Amanda’s parents had always believed that they needed to allow their children to find their own ways and trusted them to seek guidance when they were lost.

She waved to her mother, a signal that all was well. Then she walked along the banks of the creek, allowing precious childhood memories to wash over her—she and her siblings had played there, and she and her father had gone fishing together. She walked for some time, following the winding trail of the water, listening as it splashed over rocks, and savoring the certainty that whatever choices she made in life, this would always be home.

She was farther afield than she had realized when she heard footsteps behind her—boots that crunched over the ground with purpose. Secure in the knowledge that she was still on Porterfield land, she stopped and prepared to face whoever was coming.

Seth Grover strode across the land as if he’d walked there a thousand times before. He did not hesitate and choose one path over another, but came straight to her, his face shaded by the brim of his black hat. “The old man died,” he said.

“Did he suffer?”

“No. Doctor Porterfield said he never regained consciousness—just slipped away.” He placed his hand on her forearm. “There was nothing you could have done, Amanda.”

She walked toward the creek.

“We have to talk,” he said, following her.

“So you said in your note. What can possibly be so urgent that it cannot keep until tomorrow?”

“Sorry about that. I misread your comment at breakfast. I had no idea your real plan was to meet up with Matthews.”

“That was not…” She shook off any attempt to offer an explanation. Let the man believe whatever he chose. “Well? What is it we need to discuss?”

He removed his hat and ran his fingers through his thick black hair. He squinted at the sun, then back at her. “Mind if we get out of this sun?” he asked, nodding toward a cluster of cottonwoods that anchored a bend in the creek.

“Very well, but I do have to get back to the house.” She picked her way through brush and tall grass toward the creek.

“Too late. Matthews and his daughter pulled out already.”

“Will you please not concern yourself with my personal life? You don’t like it when I question your activities, so please show me the same simple courtesy.”

“Fair enough.” He indicated an old cottonwood tree that had fallen so it jutted into the creek. “Okay if we sit a minute?”

She sat and released an audible breath of exasperation.

He leaned against the trunk. “Eli Baxter has been making midnight forays into the countryside.”

“I know.” His look of surprise pleased her. “I saw him one night. He sneaked out of the house and took a horse and left. The following morning he was—not surprisingly—too ill to attend class.”

“Did you mention this to his father?”

“No. Ezra Baxter has a temper, Seth. I have seen the marks of that temper on his children, and it goes beyond acceptable discipline. I decided to let the matter stand unless it became clear that Eli had made a habit of these outings.”

“And how were you going to judge that?”

She sighed. “If he’d continued to miss class, especially in the mornings, then I was going to do something about it. I would have spoken to him first, with the warning that if I learned of any more forays, I would report it to his father.”

“But you never had that conversation.”

“I didn’t feel the need. Eli has been a model student, especially since Jim agreed to work with him.”

Seth’s mouth tightened at the mention of Jim’s name, but he shook it off and pushed himself away from the tree—and her. “Here’s what you need to know. Eli has not only continued his rides, he’s gotten mixed up with pretty bad ruffians in the bargain.”

“How do you know this?”

He smiled. “Now, there you go again, Amanda, asking questions you know I can’t answer.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to make a decision. Then he reached out and touched her cheek with his forefinger, tracing a feather-light line along her jaw. “Both,” he said softly.

He seemed to gather himself, pulling his hand away as he put on his hat. “That’s all I wanted to say, Amanda. The kid is headed for trouble. Hopefully, you—and Matthews—can get him back on the right trail.”

He turned to walk away, but she grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute. If you know all this, why not speak to him yourself? He would certainly pay attention to someone like you. You, of all people, could convince him…”

He went so still that she felt a tremor of fear rocket through her. When he looked down at her hand on his forearm, she released him. “Someone like me?” It was a raspy whisper. “Is that how you see me, Amanda? As someone people should fear? As someone not quite right for polite society? As…”

“I don’t know what to think. One minute you’re mysterious and standoffish, and the next you’re sweet and caring and…”

He took a step closer, his eyes dancing over her face. “And which do you prefer, Amanda?”

“Both,” she replied. She did not retreat as she knew she should have. This was a moment she had thought about a good deal. She had feelings for this man that had gone unexplored for too long, and now, as he studied her, reached for her, and folded her into his embrace, she understood that nothing she felt was one-sided. In this moment, at least, he was every bit as curious as she was about taking that next step and kissing her again.

* * *

Seth had kissed his fair share of women, but kissing Amanda Porterfield was different. As he had that night in town, he felt the expected carnal urge to take her then and there in the tall grass along the creek, and yet in the light of day, there was a stronger feeling—a confusing mix of the need to savor and protect, as well as the sense that one time would not be enough. A thousand times would not be enough.

He was touched by her sweetness and inexperience, and at the same time, driven by her willingness to go wherever he might lead. When he pressed his mouth to her lips, she settled in to learn the dance he silently proposed. She pushed his hat off and buried her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. He could feel the pounding of her heart through the fabric of his shirt—or maybe it was his own heartbeat he felt.

Only the need to take in air could make him release her for so much as an instant. And when he did, they stood toe to toe, breathing as if they had run miles as they stared at each other. With both hands, she framed his face and allowed the pads of her thumbs to stroke his cheeks, the stubble of his beard.

“Amanda,” he said, and his voice was hoarse with wanting. “You don’t understand… We can’t… I’m not…” Words failed him as he felt the riptide of those emerald eyes surround him and pull him under.

“Then make me understand, Seth,” she pleaded.

In the distance, he heard the laughter and whoops of the cowhands coming in off the trail. The interruption brought him to his senses. Gently, he moved his hand from her back to her upper arms, and stepped away.

“I have a job to do, and when that is done, maybe then you and I can talk about where this might lead. But in the meantime, I’m urging you to take a serious look at Matthews. He’ll be good for you—good to you.”

“And you wouldn’t be?”

“That’s not the point, Amanda. The point is that what just happened here can’t happen again. I won’t allow it.” He looked around for his hat, found it, and held it in both hands. “Now let me walk you back to the house so I can say good-bye to your family and head back to Tucson.”

“I know the way back, so I hardly need you to walk me there,” she said, and this time she was the one to take a step closer. “I also know, Seth Grover, that you have not seen the last of me. Whatever it is that Eli is mixed up in has something to do with you and your mysterious midnight rides. Let me in, or I will take matters into my own hands until I can figure out what’s really going on.”

“No!” Seth saw the full extent of the danger she could not possibly realize. “You will stay out of this. I will talk to the Baxter boy and make sure he doesn’t get hurt, all right?”

She had her hands planted on her narrow hips and tapped one foot impatiently. “And what if you get hurt?”

He tried to laugh off her concern, but could not deny it felt damned good to have someone this worried about him. “I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet that’s exactly what that prospector thought,” she said, and stalked off toward the house.

He could have easily overtaken her, but he gave her time to make it all the way back before he followed. His plan was to stop briefly to express his thanks to Mrs. Porterfield and then head to Tucson. But when he got to the ranch house, Amanda was waiting for him. Her horse was saddled, and her mother was looking at Seth as if he were the devil incarnate.

“My daughter believes she needs to return to Tucson tonight. She says she needs to be with her students tomorrow—something about a special assignment she forgot she gave them.”

Seth wasn’t sure what any of this had to do with him, and to tell the truth, he was probably as upset as Amanda’s mother about this sudden turn of events.

“I am entrusting her safety to you, Mr. Grover, given that Mr. Matthews and his daughter are already well on their way. I will be honest and tell you that I do so with some concern. I do not for one minute believe that you are a businessman, and I have no idea what it is you are hiding behind that ruse, a fact that gives me pause. But my son tells me I have no need to worry, and I certainly cannot allow Amanda to go off on her own at this time of day.”

Just then, Amanda’s brother Jess strolled into the courtyard, his eyes on Seth, repeating his previous warning to stay away from his sister. Seth wondered if either mother or brother would be surprised to understand that the last thing Seth wanted—or needed—right now was to spend the next several hours alone with Amanda.

“Maybe I could talk to her—offer to carry a note back to Mr. Baxter and his children, explaining her need to stay over.”

“No! I’m going now—with or without you,” Amanda announced as she checked the cinch on her horse’s saddle one last time.

She had to be one of the most pig-headed females God ever gave the breath of life. He knew what she was up to, why the sudden need to get back to Tucson at once. In spite of his plea to allow him to handle the matter, she would confront Eli Baxter. At least he hoped that was her plan and not something more dangerous.

Seth turned his attention to her. “Now, Miss Amanda, I could take care of this for you, and you could stay here and enjoy some time with your family.”

He saw the way she bristled at the way he called her Miss Amanda, but she recovered quickly, batting her lashes and smiling as she said, “Oh, that is so sweet of you, Mr. Grover, but really, the children will be disappointed, and their father made it quite clear that he expects me to put them first.” She climbed into the saddle, settled herself, and turned to look back at him. “Coming?”

Seth glanced at Mrs. Porterfield who threw up her hands in exasperation, while Jess folded his arms across his chest and glared at Seth. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

“You go on, miss. I’ll catch up,” Seth said as he strode toward the corral to get his horse, hoisting his saddle off the fence as he went.

“Ma, this is a bad idea,” he heard Jess say.

“I thought you told me he was not…dangerous, so how is this a bad idea?”

“Trust me. It is,” Jess grumbled.

“Then either you go with her, or talk her into staying,” Mrs. Porterfield replied as she returned to the house.

Seth was aware of the marshal headed his way, but he concentrated on saddling his horse. He was already mounted when Jess reached the corral. “I thought we had a deal,” he said.

“We did, and I’m doing my best to keep it, but unless you want your sister riding out there where the varmint who shot the prospector is still at large, I suggest you let me catch up to her and see that she gets back safe and sound.”

“And once you do, that’ll end it?”

Jess’s wife Addie was walking their way. “Stop badgering the man, Jess, and let him be on his way. Seems to me whatever might be going on with him and Amanda is a two-step dance, and you’ve got no say in it, so back off and let your sister make her own mistakes.”

At first Seth had been flattered by Addie’s comments, but when she said that part about letting Amanda make her own mistakes, he understood that he was that mistake. Well, she had a point. A guy like him—working undercover and moving from one place to the next—was not exactly the addition to the family that folks like the Porterfields would want. The truth was that he tended to agree.

As he headed cross-country, he met up with a small detail of soldiers coming to question the prospector. He stopped to fill them in on the old man’s death, told them what he knew of the shooter, and answered their questions about how he’d come to be involved. Finally, they let him go.

He spurred his horse to a gallop, certain he would catch up to Amanda quickly, but as the sun sank lower in the western sky, casting the landscape in shades of orange and rust, he saw no sign of her. There was only one main trail between Whitman Falls and Tucson, and right now, she didn’t appear to be on it. His heart hammered as he pulled his horse to a stop and looked around. Where could she be? What if the guy who’d shot the old-timer had seen her riding alone?

Seth slid from his saddle and searched the trail for signs of recent tracks. Up ahead was a cluster of aspen trees near a creek, probably the same creek that ran through the Porterfield property. He thought he saw movement and then recognized Amanda’s horse. He climbed back in the saddle, and once again urged his mount to a gallop, not yet relieved. He saw the horse, but he didn’t see her.

* * *

For the first mile or so, Amanda fully expected to hear Seth’s horse coming behind her at any moment. But she saw no one and heard nothing except the muffled beats of her horse’s hooves hitting the soft dirt of the trail. The sun was lower in the sky now—not yet setting, but late in the day. By her calculation, Tucson was at least an hour’s ride away, assuming she kept pace. As the shadows of the hills lengthened and stretched across the range, she imagined she saw movement, and her anxiety grew in direct proportion to the fading light.

She had been so certain that Seth would come. What could be keeping him?

When she saw the place where the creek narrowed and all but disappeared, she turned her horse in that direction. At least the animal would have water, and she would have cover where she might observe the trail. Of course, if she lingered there too long, it would be dark, and then what would she do? She thought about the prospector. If she hadn’t been there…if she hadn’t witnessed…

And that, of course, was the problem. The shooter had seen her.

She dismounted and led her horse to the edge of the narrow stream. She took advantage of the clear water to wash her face and hands. She was tightening the cap of her canteen after taking a long drink when she heard two things—a horse coming down the trail, and the telltale rattle of a snake not two feet away from where she stood.

Her horse shuffled behind her, clearly aware of the danger. The snake remained coiled on a rock at the edge of the creek. The hoofbeats came closer, and at this point, she really didn’t care who the rider might be. The rattle sounded again—a warning—as the snake seemed to lock eyes with her. She stepped back slowly and bumped into the side of her horse, which whinnied and shifted. In fascination, she watched as the snake’s body began to move, its muscles rippling as it prepared to strike.

“Please,” she whispered, unsure of whether she was uttering a prayer to the heavens or a plea to the snake.

She no longer heard the rider behind her. Had he passed her, unaware of her presence? She couldn’t recall. And then suddenly, she was shoved aside as a shot rang out, and when she opened her eyes, Seth was standing over the corpse of the rattler, and he was furious—at her.

He yelled, his voice carrying across the deserted land. “Are you satisfied? Two times in one day you could have gotten yourself killed, and still you insist on going out looking for trouble. You are an impulsive and mulish woman, Amanda, and sooner rather than later it’s going to get you killed. I have known some characters when it comes to taking unnecessary risks, but you take the cake. I mean, what was the point of…”

She really didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She decided to do neither. Instead she stood, brushed herself off, and headed for her horse.

“Well, it certainly took you long enough to catch up,” she said. “Thank you, by the way. That could have turned out badly.”

His mouth dropped open. “Badly?”

He mocked her as he holstered his gun and kicked the carcass of the snake aside. Of course, he was right—she had been foolish to take off on her own like that, especially so late in the day, but the prospector’s violent death had stirred memories of what her father must have once suffered, and she knew she couldn’t stay one more minute at the ranch. Of course, she wasn’t about to admit that to Seth or let him see how truly terrified she had been.

“We should get going,” she said as she put her canteen away. “It’ll be dark before long and—”

Before she could utter another word, he had taken hold of her and pulled her close. “Stop doing this,” he said, his voice husky.

“What do you mean by ‘this’?”

“Scaring the bejesus out of me,” he replied as he tilted her face so she looked at him.

He still held her. She could feel his heart beat against the palm she pressed to his chest in a half-hearted attempt to put some distance between them. She felt her own heartbeat quicken at the very suggestion that he might care.

But then he went and spoiled the moment. “I don’t have time for this, Amanda.”

Now, she struggled to put space between them. “Nobody is asking you to do anything. Thank you for killing the snake, of course, but other than that…”

To her surprise, instead of loosening his hold, he tightened it. Now his handsome face was so close she could count each whisker of the stubble on his jaw. “Do you really not have the good sense God gave you to be afraid when danger is staring you in the face?”

“The only thing staring me in the face at the moment is you,” she snipped. “Now—”

He cradled the back of her head with one hand and kissed her—kissed her as she had never in her life been kissed. This was no boyish, experimental slobber meant to test the waters. This wasn’t even that first, truly adult kiss they’d shared earlier. This was a kiss that announced, loud and clear, his desire and his intention to act on that desire, unless she stopped him.

So what did she do? To what she was well aware would be her mother’s horror, she kissed him back, giving what she was given. When his lips parted, so did hers. When his teeth collided with hers, she did not pull back. When he stroked her teeth with his tongue, she opened wide to allow him the access he was clearly requesting, and when she heard him exhale, she could not help but feel as if she had won. Everything about the way he deepened that kiss told her he did care—he cared far more than he had allowed himself to admit. She had no doubt of that, and definitely no doubt that she cared as well.

Instead of pulling away, she leaned into him, allowing his arms to wrap her in his strength. For the first time in a long time, she felt shielded from the fears and anxieties about what the future might hold, which she’d held inside since her father’s tragic death. She had found her future in this man’s embrace. She had never been more certain of anything in her life.

He broke the kiss finally and gently stroked her lips with his thumb. “Amanda?”

“Right here,” she said softly, and snuggled closer to him.

“We can’t… I mean, this is insanity and…”

She framed his face with her hands and pulled him to her. “Kiss me again and then tell me about insanity,” she whispered as she pressed her lips to his.

* * *

Seth was pretty sure that giving in to Amanda Porterfield’s kiss was possibly the most dangerous thing he had done in a long time. He understood that kissing her would satisfy his need to have her, to make her his, for only so long, and then he’d be ready to move on to serious lovemaking—ravishing the rest of her as he was currently ravishing her sweet mouth.

He had already managed to pull her hair free of the pins that held it. He could smell the pine of the soap she had used to wash it. He imagined her soft hair streaming over his bare chest as they lay together. Feeling her full breasts pressed against his chest, he thought about what she would look like naked—that skin, so fair in the few places exposed to the world, would be like milk. The image made him groan with desire.

“I want you,” he whispered as he feathered kisses along her brow, waiting for their breathing to ease back to normal.

“Yes,” she said.

“But…”

“Seth, I said yes. It’s almost dark. Let’s build a fire and stay here by the creek, and we can…”

Gently, he set her away from him and then removed his hands from her shoulders and held them stiffly at his sides. “You don’t know me, Amanda. You would be making love with a stranger.”

“I do know you, and you know me. We may have met only a few weeks ago, but—”

“I’ve lied to you and the others, Amanda.”

“I don’t understand. Are you telling me your name is not Seth Grover?”

“No. I mean, that’s my name, but who I am and who I pretend to be—that’s the lie.” He could see she was near tears, the stress of the day and the depth of her passion for him taking its toll. He wanted to tell her the truth, but he’d sworn an oath, and until this job was done and he was free to walk away and live the life he hadn’t realized he wanted, he could not break that oath.

“Tell me,” she pleaded, her eyes growing wide with doubt—in him and herself.

“I can’t do that now. You have to trust me. There are good reasons, and one day soon, I promise I’ll be free to tell you everything.” He took a step toward her and knew when she retreated that it was a mistake.

Abruptly, she turned away and began unsaddling her horse. “It would be foolhardy to try to make it back to town in the dark,” she said. “I believe I know you well enough to trust you are a gentleman, and if we stay here until first light, nothing will happen. That is, there can be no repeat of…”

“I’ll take first watch,” he said as he unbuckled his horse’s cinch, pulled the saddle free, and carried it to a place where he could keep a lookout. “You bed down over there and get some rest. Those Baxter kids will be waiting for you in the morning.” He worked hard at keeping his tone light, trustworthy, that of a brother or good friend. He even put a twang into his words, hoping to give her some comfort.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Seth, you don’t have to treat me like I’m fragile crystal. We kissed and got momentarily carried away. Fortunately, we both managed to come to our senses. Wake me when it’s my turn to watch.”

She spread her saddle blanket on the ground, lay down, and tried unsuccessfully to wrap the cover around her.

“Here,” he said, taking his blanket and opening it as he walked toward her. She didn’t protest when he placed it over her.

She also didn’t protest when he bent down to pull it over her shoulders. Unable to stop himself, he touched a curl of her hair, allowing his fingers to sift through it as if it were sand—or strawberry gold.

“Get some sleep,” he said before returning to where he’d propped his saddle against the thick trunk of a tree near the creek.

As the night deepened, he stared up at the stars and thought about the future. What he had wanted when he left Chicago three years earlier had changed. Problem was, what he wanted now didn’t fit with the life he’d made for himself. What he wanted now was the life he’d seen as boring when he thought about his parents—a home and family and a woman at his side who would be there no matter what.

A woman like Amanda.

“No,” he whispered to the dark. “Not a woman like her. Only Amanda.”

He could tell neither of them was sleeping. She moved restlessly, as if trying to find comfort on the hard ground. He got up and, although he was fairly certain he was making a mistake, went to her.

“Amanda?” He knelt next to her.

“What?” she grumbled, pretending he had awakened her as she pushed herself to a sitting position and covered her shoulders with the blanket.

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“No,” she admitted. “Me neither. I just wish…”

“I trust you—more than trust you, Amanda. The truth is I think I’m falling in love with you.” He ran his knuckles over her cheek. “Couldn’t come at a less opportune time, but there it is. Look, I know I’m not what your family wants for you, but…”

“Shhh,” she whispered, silencing him by placing her finger on his lips. “You are the man I want for me, and that is all that matters.” She ran her fingers through his thick hair. “In time we’ll find our way, but for tonight, Seth, let’s not waste the one chance we may ever have. Teach me how to love you.”

He settled himself beside her and guided her hands to the buttons on his shirt. Following his lead, she opened each in turn, and then spread the fabric to expose his bare chest. He placed her palms on his skin. She leaned closer so a trail of her kisses could follow the path of her hands exploring him. She started to open the shirt she wore, pulling it free of her riding pants.

“Let me,” he said, his voice raw with need. He opened each button and then pushed the garment off her shoulders, exposing her breasts pressed against the lacy fabric of her chemise.

He lay down next to her, and instead of caressing her or kissing her as she had expected, he opened the closing on her pants, pushed them down, and slowly began his sweet torment—stroking her inner thighs—up and around her womanhood, until she squirmed with pleasure.

Seeking to give as good as she got, she thrust her hand down the waistband of his trousers and clutched his manhood. His gasp of surprise and pleasure was all she needed to keep going. She opened the buttons of his fly and pushed at his clothing, wanting it gone. He had bundled her riding pants around her knees.

“Help me,” she said as she sat up and pushed her pants to her ankles. He pulled them free, cast them aside, then shed the rest of his clothes. She followed his lead.

They stopped, their breathing like the exhaust of a train as they stared at each other’s naked bodies.

“I knew you were beautiful,” he said, his voice a rasp of passion, “but, honey, never could I have even begun to imagine…”

She held out her arms to him. “Shut up and love me,” she pleaded.

But still, he hesitated. “Be sure this is what you want, Amanda. No regrets when dawn comes.”

“No regrets,” she whispered. “Not ever. No matter what happens.”

Her willingness to go wherever he might lead inspired him. Their first time was an explosion set in motion by the buildup of desire they had fought since the day they’d met. But later, after they had dozed in the haven of each other’s arms, he woke her with a kiss. She turned and pressed her body to his. She reached to touch him, but he gently pushed her hand away. “Your turn,” he said as he kissed her throat, suckled her breasts, moved lower until he was kissing her most vulnerable and intimate core.

She writhed beneath him, tugging, pleading with her hands and gasps to end the sweet torment. And when he entered her and held himself back, she lifted her hips to meet his, insisting on this new dance she had learned all too well, and he was lost. And afterward, as she lay beside him, curled into the shelter of his body, he heard her whisper, “It’s almost dawn—the dawning of the first day of us.”