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He wore his new black hat low over his too-bright blue eyes. An olive green linen shirt was tucked into his black trousers, and he hadn’t shaved in a while. His dark, thick beard was handsome on him, and made his eyes look even brighter.
That he was fetching wasn’t the most important thing though. It was the worry mixed with hope and relief in his gaze.
It was the soft sound he sighed out of his lungs that might as well have been an I-love-you.
Lenny left the room as he fell to his knees beside the bed and grasped her hand. He yanked his hat off and set it on the bed by her feet, then buried his face against her palm. His shoulders were tense up until the second she pulled her hand from his and rested it on the back of his head, scratching his scalp gently with her nails.
Oh, she felt like death, but that didn’t seem so important in the here-and-now.
“I’m okay,” she murmured, remembering Garret’s wolf ripping into Wyatt’s throat. Remembering the words he had uttered to her just before the world went dark.
I love you.
Don’t leave me.
She hadn’t left.
He pulled back and searched her face, and that was when she saw the glint of metal on her left hand as he held it up to his cheek.
She gasped softly and stared at the gold band that shone on her third finger. “Garret,” she whispered.
“It was my mother’s. I had to melt it and resize it, but it felt right. You’re my wife. You should be wearing a ring.”
For the rest of her life, no matter how short or long, Eliza would never forget the moisture that filled his blazing-blue eyes as he stared at her. She may never see Garret Shaw this close to tears again.
This ring meant more than she could ever express. He had melted and re-formed his mother’s ring? For her?
She cupped his cheek and ran her nails gently down his beard just to relish the texture there. In a whisper, she said, “Look who has grown a heart.”
“It’s all your fault,” he rumbled in a voice more wolf than man.
Eliza smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Unable to sleep late after years of waking before the rooster, Garret woke early the next morning. Eliza’s head rested on his chest and, with staggering pride, he moved a strand of hair from her face with the tip of his finger. His wife. His wife, and his mate. Sure, he had been a husband for some time, but the word hadn’t felt like it applied to him until recently. Not until he’d fallen completely into his devotion to her.
Though he wanted badly to wake her, he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d roused her twice in the night to bring her body to release, just to remind himself she was still alive, still here. The thought of how pliable her body became at his touch made him smile. Since she’d joined the land of the living again, she had been just as thirsty for his skin as he was for hers.
He didn’t want to leave the comfort of her arms, but there was work to do.
As quiet as he could, so as not to wake her too early, Garret made breakfast and left a plate to warm on the embers for her. Damn, she looked so beautiful as he watched her sleep for a couple of minutes before he left. Leaving her entangled in their sheets, sound asleep in their bed with the early-morning light gracing the peaceful expression on her face, had been damned hard.
Cattle didn’t care about his wants though.
Barely avoiding the telltale whistling that always gave away the best of his moods, he strode to the barn. Wells had gone to town yesterday and purchased supplies, and they still needed unloading. Having caught himself looking toward the front of the barn for the tenth time, he laughed at himself. What an old whooped fool he was turning out to be.
“There’s somethin’ different about you today, Boss.”
Garret jumped. He hadn’t noticed Burke mucking out stalls.
His friend leaned on a pitchfork and stared at him intently. “You musta had some night last night,” Burke drawled with a knowing grin.
“Shut up,” he said, unable to contain his grin. “Get back to work.” Returning to the task at hand, he tried his best to ignore Burke, who spent much of the early morning throwing sly glances and crass innuendos his way.
Morning passed with no sign of Eliza, so he checked the cattle with the ranch hands. The herd would need to be worked again soon, and he wanted to haul feed and get a rough head count. He swung a glance to the house one more time before he headed out on Rooney. She would find him if need be, no doubt about that, but what the hell was keeping her?
Midday ebbed into a cool evening, and he headed for home and a warm dinner with the men. As he pulled the door to Rooney’s stall closed, movement in the barn doorway caught his eye. Eliza stood there, watching him. Smiling, he advanced on her. Framed in the dusty sunlight, her appearance drew him to a stop. Her eyes were swollen, as if she’d been crying.
