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Blue Moon lay silent under a clear night sky, the streets, trees, and buildings coated with dust from the passing storm. Logan took the horse around to the back of the house. To Kristin’s relief, the roan gelding, still wearing its saddle, was standing outside the gate to the neighbors’ corral.
Logan helped her to the ground. “Go on inside,” he said. “I’ll take care of the horses—and I’ll bring in your boot.”
“I’ll leave the back door unlocked,” she said. Would he take it as an invitation?
The tightly closed house was free of dust inside. In the bathroom, Kristin stripped off her clothes, brushed out her hair, and ran a warm bath in the tub. Her sore muscles ached, and there were long, red scratches on her hands and arms from being dragged behind the horse. But the bath felt like heaven. She soaped her hair and lay back in the water to rinse it. When she sat up, Logan was standing in the open doorway with a mischievous smile on his face. “Too bad you don’t have a bigger tub,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind joining you. And yes, I locked the back door when I came in.”
“I can save you the water. But I’ve washed off a lot of dust in it. Or if you want, I could run you some more, but it might not be warm.”
“It’s probably better than the tin washtub with the dipper I use at home. But never mind, I need to get back to the ranch. I was planning to tuck you into bed and leave. But I might be talked into staying a little longer.”
He was trying to keep things light, making it easy for her to send him away. But Kristin could see the raw hunger in his eyes. He needed her. They needed each other.
“I could use a good back scrub if you’ve got time,” she said.
“I can make time.” He rolled up his sleeves, walked to the tub, and stood looking down at her. Her nipples seemed to shrink under his gaze. She felt the stirrings of arousal.
“Lord, but you’re beautiful.” His voice was thick and husky. Heart pounding, she smiled and handed him the bar of lavender soap.
“It smells good, like you.” He took a seat on the edge of the tub, lathered his hands, and slid them down her bare back. His masculine touch—the fingers strong, the palms big and rough and calloused—awakened whorls of need, setting off a pulsing in the depths of her body.
“Is that enough?” he muttered.
“Almost.” Taking one hand, she guided it around to her breast. His other hand needed no urging. She lay back, eyes closed, lips parting in unspeakable pleasure as his soap-slicked hands cupped and caressed her tender flesh. When one hand slid down her belly, then lower to stroke between her parted legs, her womb clenched like a fist. She shuddered, whimpering as the climax rippled through her.
He gave her a knowing look. “I think we need to get you out of this tub.” He offered a hand to help her up.
While she dried herself with a towel, he shed his clothes in the hall. Seen through the open doorway, he had a warrior’s body, scarred with battle wounds. His left leg, below the knee, was mostly bone and scar tissue. Kristin gave silent thanks to the surgeon who’d had the skill and compassion to save it. Seeing her man naked and vulnerable, she experienced an overwhelming surge of love. She wanted to touch each scar, kiss it, hear its story and how it became part of him. But that could wait. Right now all she wanted was for Logan to make love to her.
Dropping her towel on the bedroom rug, she slipped into bed, turned down the covers on the near side, and held out her arms. He came to her, aroused and ready. Her body welcomed him, opened to him, and took him inside her, deep and hard. It was as if she’d wanted him there all her life. Him and only him.
“I feel like I’ve just come home,” he whispered.
“You are home.” She arched her hips, feeling him move inside her as she met each thrust. The stars seemed to spin as their climax mounted. They shattered together and lay still. Even then they held each other close, savoring the few precious moments before the world closed around them.
* * *
Logan stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then he eased away from her, dressed in the other room, and left by the back door. He’d watered his horse and left it to rest. Now it stood waiting, tethered inside the back gate.
It had taken all his strength of will to leave Kristin, but it wouldn’t do for him to be seen at her house. And he needed to get back to the ranch. There could be damage from the storm; and with Webb on the warpath, anything could happen.
The sky was dark, the town still silent as he took the wagon road across the prairie. The air smelled and tasted of dust, but the storm, thank heaven, was over. It had probably blown itself out against the mountains. But if rain didn’t come, there were bound to be more storms like it.
He thought about Kristin and how she’d reawakened the love that had died with his family. He wanted her in his life forever. But nothing was simple. Working out their differences was going to take time.
Webb had been right about one thing. He needed to improve conditions in his house. He had the money; he’d just been too busy to pay attention. Now, if Kristin was going to spend time there, he needed to do some painting, finish plumbing the bathroom, buy rugs, curtains, and furniture, and make sure the fireplace was working before winter set in. He was a wealthy man. It was time he stopped living like a dirt farmer.
As first light pinkened the sky above the mountains, he could see the house and barn in the distance. Everything appeared to be standing, thanks to Lars’s quality work. The builders wouldn’t be coming this morning, he reminded himself. Today was Sunday. But he’d be kept busy cleaning up the mess from the storm and fixing any damage.
As he neared the house, the dogs emerged from under the porch and came bounding out to meet them. Tongues lolling, tails wagging, they were happy, simple creatures, too friendly to be of much use as watchdogs. But Logan was already growing attached to them. Maybe it was time he came up with some names. Sam and Pal seemed to suit them.
He fed the dogs, then took the horse into the barn for water, oats, and a well-earned brushing. Its tan coat was thick with dust. Getting a second horse would be a good idea, he thought, maybe a gentle mare for Kristin to ride. He could let her choose one.
He was already planning for her in his future. He could only hope he wasn’t wanting too much, too soon, or asking more than she was willing to give. Webb had already made that mistake.
Logan hadn’t forgotten about his distant kinsman. Webb was not a good loser. There would be some kind of retribution—Logan could be sure of that. Webb was too smart to do anything that might land him in jail. But there were plenty of dirty tricks that weren’t illegal. Without doubt, Webb had a few up his sleeve. For now, all Logan could do was watch and wait.
Dust had filtered into the house. While his coffee was brewing, he swept the floor and the porch and brushed off the table and bed. After a quick breakfast, he went outside to check for any damage to his property.
