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"She's beautiful…" Clay murmured. "I think I'll ride into town dad; do you mind?"
Charlie stared at him for a moment, then rubbed his chin, "I don't mind. You got an itch, I guess you better scratch it."
Clay didn't smile though. In fact, the way he was acting he looked more like he was going into town for a hanging than to see a lady.
Charlie wasn't blind either. It would cause all kinds of hell with their neighbors if Clay took Willa for his bride, but Charlie knew that's what was on Clay's mind. Even if Clay didn't.
Maybe going into town wasn't such a bad idea. If he could satisfy himself with a whore, then he wasn't in love with Willa. Charlie knew that too. But Clay would have to see that for himself.
Charlie went to the house, and Clay rode off.
Willa had just put Elan down for a nap and was cleaning the kitchen.
When she saw Charlie, she smiled and came up to him. "I'm sorry, I spoke out of turn with you."
"You didn't. But I'm no hand at being sick. I think I'll join the little fella." He chuckled.
Willa smiled.
She wondered where Clay got off to, but it wasn't her business to keep up with him too. She had to remember her place here.
Chapter Nine
Clay glanced around town, there were a lot of people in town today. But he noticed not many spoke to him, like usual.
He seldom came to town, only to help his father get supplies and tend to that itch. Today he wasn't certain he was doing right by coming here. He knew it wouldn't change what he felt inside. He knew his feelings for Willa were more than simple respect. Living with her day to day, watching her take care of things, of Elan, of them, and the gentleness of the way she did things. What wasn't to like about the woman? She worked along side them too. He'd never known a harder working woman.
He couldn't get the picture of her and Elan at the creek out of his head either. Until that moment he had managed to keep her at a distance, but it was impossible not to think of her as a woman now, a beautiful woman in every way. In his heart he knew she fit him like a worked in glove.
Still, what he felt wasn't practical and part of his brain seemed to fight that. Had it been lust?
No, he knew the difference. Yes, she had a lovely body that any man would treasure knowing, a face like an angel when she smiled, a heart as big as Texas.
Clay was sure of one thing, if he took her, she would be his, forever. But never being in a relationship made him back off. Was he falling in love with her?
He'd rarely felt what most called love for a woman. Admiration was more the word he would use, but that didn't cover it with Willa. When he reached to touch her hand, he saw her face, her surprise and what else? When he pulled her chin around and stared into her eyes, he felt a jolt of something much more. And what shocked him, it wasn't a one way feeling. He saw the razor-edged control she managed to keep their relationship from being personal. Oh, he'd wanted to kiss her, many times. But he knew that a kiss would change everything. The funny thing about it was that he thought she wanted him too. The way her chin quivered against his finger touched her there, the way her eyes met his with question.
She was as worried about keeping the peace as they were. But her tender heart, good morals and a sweet disposition was also hard to overlook.
And there were many times when playing with Elan that he felt so close to the tike. He began to realize what his father had been telling him. He needed a family of his own. It was past time.
One kiss and she'd be his, he knew it somehow. But it would mean marriage, and that would blow this whole territory wide open with hatred, and he knew it. Rock Creek wasn't sophisticated enough to handle a marriage like that.
Still, that missed kiss sent his body into a stir. He'd wanted it too. Still did. He stared at those beautifully formed lips of hers, that slightly quivered when their eyes met.
He was almost certain she was feeling the same way, with mixed emotions. He knew that kiss would fill his soul, from the loneliness he felt many times here on the prairie. If she weren't part Indian, she would make him a wonderful wife.
But damn, could he let that stand in his way? It didn't matter to him personally. She was beautiful no matter what she was. But it would matter to everyone else.
Did he honestly have to please everyone else?
Could he resist her? Could he say no to his heart?
Well, that's why he came to town, to find out. Would an afternoon delight with a whore satisfy him?
He shook his head and sighed; he already knew the answer.
So, how could he hide his feelings for her, how could he resist her? And how long would she continue to resist him?
