They reached the top of the embankment, and Wyatt didn't let go of her hand even after they were both on solid ground. He turned to face her as she summited, watching her as she reached him. He straightened up, and she realized he was taller than she'd noticed before. She came up to the middle of his chest, and his shoulders were so wide she felt tiny in comparison.

Rightness surged through her, that same rightness as when she'd felt the strength of his quads on either side of her hips. She was startled by how good it felt not to have to be the strong one, the one trying to hold everything together. He gave off the aura of strength and power, and it felt incredible...but even as she thought it, guilt flashed through her. Guilt that she was appreciating his strength, as if it was an insult to David.

She didn't want to compare them. She didn't want David to be less in her memories, just because Wyatt was strong. She wanted to simply appreciate this moment, and not let it get tangled up in all the noise in her head.

"What's wrong?" Wyatt didn't move away, his gaze focused on hers.

"I just–" She stopped. What was she going to say? That she was in love with the fact he was strong and rugged? Because that would sound sane and reasonable, right? Not.

He cocked an eyebrow, studying her as if she was a great enigma he was getting increasingly interested in figuring out.

Heat rushed through her, and instinctively, unable to stop herself, she put her hand on his chest over his heart. He didn't move away, and after a moment, she could feel the steady thump of his heart, strong and solid. Her fingers dug into his chest, as if she could grab onto his life force and hold it in her hand. "You're just so alive," she whispered. "I forgot what that was like." She splayed her fingers, feeling the strength of his muscles where she was used to feeling paper-thin flesh barely stretched over bony ribs. "It's like nothing could ever stop you. It's... amazing." She couldn't keep the wonder out of her voice, and she couldn't make herself break contact.

It just felt so good to be touching a man who was so alive. It made her feel like there was electricity leaping off him into her body, igniting her with strength instead of draining it.

For a long moment, Wyatt didn't react, and they both stood there in the pouring rain, the heat from his body searing her cold palm. She could feel the ripple of his muscles beneath her hand, the movement of his chest as he breathed. How many times had she sat with her hand on David's chest, checking to see if he was only sleeping, or if he was finally gone?

With Wyatt, it was so different. He exuded raw strength and power, a man who seemed like he would never be bested by frailty or disease. Her hand started to tremble, maybe with cold, maybe with the sheer exhaustion of trying to hold onto everything for so long, and knowing that there was suddenly this great strength in front of her, a man who could do things like catch her when she stumbled, even down a slick, muddy embankment.

She looked up at him, and she was startled to see him watching her intently. His head was ducked slightly, as if he were using the brim of his hat to shield her from the rain and even the world. His eyes were inscrutable, and his mouth was in a tight line, but she didn't feel like he was angry. Just intense. Just...God. He was just raw, untamed male, wasn't he? Desire raced through her, a longing to feel his arms around her, to lose herself in the strength of his body, to let him take her away from the memories she couldn't escape.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and she swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest as she felt the heat from his stare. Dear God, he wasn't going to kiss her, was he? That would be so absurd. She didn't even know him, and...she suddenly became aware of how hot her palm was. Her gaze went to his chest, to her pale hand spread across his chest, and gradual, horrifying awareness flooded her. She was fondling a complete stranger in the middle of nowhere…but at the same time, he didn't feel like a stranger. She felt safe with him. Secure. Protected. Like he'd touched a piece of her heart simply by being himself...which made no sense, right?

What was wrong with her? Embarrassment flooded her cheeks and she jerked her hand back. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to touch you like that. I mean, I don't even know you or–"

He touched his index finger to her lips, silencing her. He shook his head once. "It's okay." Just two simple words were all he said before he moved past her to retrieve his horse. Two simple words muttered in a deep baritone was all he'd offered her, but they rolled through her like a seductive caress that made all the tension and embarrassment disappear.

She took a deep breath, trying to gather herself even as she was unable to tear her gaze from him as he turned toward his horse, murmuring softly to the animal. She caught the name Lightning as Wyatt ran his hand gently over the velvet nose of his horse. Lightning ducked his head, pressing his face against Wyatt's chest, and he bowed his head, murmuring softly to the animal.

Her heart turned over at the moment of intimacy between man and horse, at the trust that so clearly bonded them together. The simple, beautiful connection touched her, and she had to turn her head away to fight off the tears.

God, she wanted a moment like that. A moment with Wyatt bending his head toward hers, holding her quietly, silently promising that he would always look out for her, offering her the strength he carried with him so effortlessly. Not because she was weak, because she wasn't, and she knew that. Not because she needed a man, because she knew she didn't. But because there was nothing as beautiful as that feeling of safety in the arms of someone else who would never, ever walk away if you needed them.

"Noelle?"

Wyatt's deep voice pulled her attention back to him. He was running his palm over Lightning's nose as he watched her. "Have you ridden before?" he asked, mercifully changing the subject to a neutral one, prying her attention away from her thoughts before she could do something absurd like beg him to pat her nose like he was patting his horse's.

Relieved, she nodded. "I rode English as a kid," she said. "I know how to stay on." She glanced at the horse, who had turned his shaggy head to look at her. "Never Western, though."

"Same concept," he said. "Want a leg up?"

Heat flooded her at his suggestion of giving her a boost onto the horse. She wasn't sure she trusted herself to touch him. She glanced desperately at the stirrup, but it was too high. There was no way she would be able to get her foot up there, despite bi-weekly excursions to the yoga studio for a month, two years ago. Who knew that kind of investment wouldn't pay off years later? "Yes, okay."

He grunted his acquiescence and moved beside her. "On three."

"On three." She grasped the saddle and bent her left leg at the knee. His hands closed around her lower leg, just beneath her knee. God, oh, God, it felt good to feel his hands on her. It was even more intense than when she'd touched him, because it had been so long since she'd been touched by someone else, by a man, one she was attracted to, who made her feel like a woman, soft, vulnerable, and desirable. She closed her eyes, fighting the sudden surge of emotions through her.

"Ready?" he asked.

Ready? To squeeze onto that saddle with him, when the mere touch of his hands on her leg was so overwhelming? No, she wasn't ready. She would never be ready. "Ready." Her voice was shaky, and she hoped that he attributed it to the fact that she was shivering violently from the cold.

"On three." He tightened his grip on her leg. "One. Two. Three." On three, he boosted her up at the same time that she pushed off. He lifted her easily onto Lightning's back, and she sank down into the deep saddle. The drenched leather sent an icy chill through her jeans almost immediately, but Wyatt swung up behind her before she had time to get cold. His pelvis was up against her butt, and his chaps were cold and wet against the backs of her thighs. As he reached around her to take the reins, she felt like she was being cocooned by his strength, and dammit, it felt too good...the kind of good that she wanted to hold onto forever.

She hadn't had a moment she'd wanted to last forever in a very long time, and it felt amazing.

"Lean back against me," he said, his voice gruff.

She stiffened against her urge to do exactly that. "Um, no, I'm all set–"

"You're not all set. You're shivering. You need protection from the rain."

"Oh..." She suddenly became aware of the rain hammering at her even more fiercely than before. Her teeth were actually chattering now. Silently, refusing to be stupid, she leaned back against him.

His arm went around her belly and he pulled her back against him, cutting off all space between them. "Good?" he asked.

"Yes, great, thanks." It felt so surreal to be held in his arms, to have him taking care of her. It felt so good, too good, so overwhelming that she wanted to cry. But she didn't want to be anywhere else.