Cowboy Heart (Historical Western Romance) (Longren Family series #3, Kitty and Lukes story) (15 page)

             
In the end, I chose to take a step closer. 

             
He was the one to close the distance between us, taking both of my hands in his and drawing me nearer.  Standing so close in the star and moonlight, I could just make out his dark eyes.  The challenge was still there in them, that wildness I'd seen on the day I first met him and identified as the same look I probably had in my eyes now. 

             
His mouth on mine was soft, his lips dry, his hands lightly holding mine.  One breath, two, and he drew back.

             
I didn't let go of his hands.  I hadn't been ready for him to pull back but something was on his mind.

             
"You came to visit your sister," he said.  "Unexpectedly, I got the idea."  When I didn't respond, he asked.  "Is there someone waiting for you at home?"

             
I let out the breath I'd been holding.  "There was someone there.  He wasn't the reason I left," I said, surprising myself.  "I think I was.  He's not waiting, he's marrying."  At his expression, I added, "He's not marrying
me
."  Which still, truly, probably wasn't why I had left.

             
Luke nodded.  "And home?"

             
I smiled, not that he could see it in the darkness.  "I think home is here, now.  I'd like it to be." 
With you,
I thought, but didn't add.  "Is there anyone you're stepping out with?"  Hoping the answer was no.

             
"There was a girl."

             
My spirits flagged.  Not unexpected, by any means, but if he had promised her—

             
"No one since then." 

             
The next kiss was just as sweet, my arms around his neck, his lightly on my waist, our bodies close but not touching.  I was grimy and soot-covered, streaked with charcoal and my hair had escaped its braid, been re-braided and escaped that, and now curled around my face in the damp night air.  Luke was kissing me when I was absolutely being myself.  I would have nothing to hide from him.

             
At last, I pulled away from him.  I'd begun to sway on my feet.  "I have to sleep."

             
He nodded and touched my lower lip with his forefinger.  "Will you stay in California?"

             
I hadn't realized I hadn't answered the question.  I had said I thought California was home now.  But he hadn't asked me for anything and I wasn't ready to give without invitation.  "Are you asking me to stay?"

             
I saw his lips twitch, faintly, in the dark.  "I'm very likely asking a great deal more than that, Kitty.  But it's late and we're tired.  Tomorrow?"

             
"Tomorrow," I said, and it sounded like a promise. 

             
Sarah and I sat on the porch outside the ranch house at Lord's Acres.  It was the first time Sarah had left William's side since we'd arrived the previous day, and that had only been accomplished because William had risen that morning, eaten, and headed back to Big Sky to assess for himself everything his men had already told him.

             
His behavior had left Sarah content and smug, more like my sister than she'd been most of the month I'd been with her.

             
Lord's Acres was south and west of Big Sky and faced more open grazing land than Sarah's ranch house.  We sat facing south, staring down into a sheltered valley.  If fires came here, they'd tear up the hills and burn out the ranch houses quick.  Not thoughts I would have entertained or speculated with before the previous day.

             
Sarah was the happiest I'd seen her during my stay, maybe because the events with the Getties had happened.  I suspected Mrs. Lord would join us on the porch soon—she was very glad of having company, it seemed, and I liked her, she was open and forthright—but as long as I had Sarah to myself, I had questions to ask her.

             
I didn't look at her.  I looked out over the valley. I needed to sneak up on her and tread gently.

             
"When I came here," I began, thinking how very long ago that seemed now, "You said you were happy."

             
"Did I?" Sarah asked.  She sounded uncertain.

             
That worried me.  "Aren't you?"

             
There was a long pause, during which we watched a couple of the ranch dogs being set upon by a magpie that wanted simply to harass and the ranch hands could be seen in the distance doing something I couldn't make out.

             
"I'm happy with William," Sarah finally said. 

             
"That's what you said then." 

             
"Well, it's true," she said, sounding like she half meant to laugh.

             
"But what about the rest of it?" I insisted.

             
Sarah turned slowly to look at me and there was no point in avoiding her gaze and staring at the valley.  "The rest of what?  You're being awfully cryptic, Kitty."

             
"The letters," I said.  Because those were the things weighing on my mind, tangible proof that something wasn't right.  "Those letters you started and stopped and never sent me."

             
"I meant to," she said.  "I started every one of those letters with the intention of finishing and sending them to you."

             
"And then what?  You became busy?"  I sounded as if I were sulking.

             
"No.  I'd start them and I was writing about things that were happening—there was a lot going on every day, new things, new cows, William and the ranch."  She brushed her hair back off her forehead; the day was heating up.  "I'd get about a page in and there would be all these things that should make me happy.  And they didn't."

             
She turned then and looked at me.  "I've missed you.  When I'd write, I'd miss you so much, I was ready to take a train and go home.  I've never lived anywhere that wasn't a town before, Kitty. We both grew up in Gold Hill only you're still there and I was so far away."

             
I didn't know.  I couldn't have.  I'd thought she wasn't writing because she was too busy, too happy with her new life.  That would have been better.  I didn't want to think of Sarah so lonely and alone.  Except, I wasn't willing to lose anyone else.  I'd lost Johnny and that had sent me on this journey.  I wasn't willing to risk losing Sarah on the off chance I'd gain something else from that.

             
My next question squeaked out, as uncomfortable as if I were asking a stranger for something.

             
"Did my daily letters upset you?"  Because I'd still
been
in Gold Hill, living the life I thought Sarah had left willingly.

             
She laughed, loudly.  "Kitty, they kept me sane.  I was so happy to get them.  I'd get the mail from Mike, he'd go and pick it up, and I'd get all your letters at once, you didn't know that, did you?  Your daily letters were only picked up once or twice a week.  I'd get maybe three, maybe five, and, once, eight of them.  The calves would need feeding and the supper would need making and there'd be cleaning and weeding and I'd be at the kitchen table, reading your letters and laughing.  There'd be a dozen questions from you that I wanted to answer and all these things I'd think of that I wanted to tell you and…"  She shrugged.

             
"And it all started over again?"

             
"Having you visit has been wonderful.  Having Cynthia Getties as a friend was happy at first.  They're right up the creek!  I could visit.  But the poor woman isn't right and, even if she was, now she'll either be going to jail or to Nebraska."

             
"I'm sorry," I said. 

             
"Well, of course, I couldn't be friends with her now.  And she's the kind of person you're not really friends with; you just don't know it until it's too late."

             
"Sissy Tompkins," I said.

             
"Who?" Sarah asked, wrinkling her brow.

             
I waved it away.  "Not important."  And it wasn't anymore.

             
"So if you stay…" Sarah said.  "If you stayed and if you lived right up the creek to the north—" Then she broke off and blushed.

             
I stared at her.  "How on earth would I do that?  Would I live in the trees?"

             
Sarah looked startlingly smug.

             
"Do you know something I don't?"

             
"Many things," Sarah said and rose to go indoors.

             
"Where are you going?"  Because I was still talking, I wanted to know more than what I'd asked her so far.

             
"Come find me when you get back," Sarah said, heading through the door into the ranch house.

             
"What?"  She wasn't making any sense.  Maybe Sarah had gone mad.  A mad Sarah would be a bad thing.

             
"When you get back from your walk," she said, and shut the door behind her.

             
"Sarah!"  I stood up and started for the door before I heard footsteps on the porch boards.  I turned.  Luke's dark hair was combed back, under control for a change.  He'd taken pains to comb it back and he'd washed the majority of ash and soot from his face.  I had as well, though my clothes still smelled of wood smoke.

             
"Luke?"

             
"Kitty, would you go for a walk with me?"

             
Perhaps Sarah wasn't as mad as I had thought. 

             
What do you know that I don't?

             
Many things.

              We walked south from the farm house, down into the valley, following the gentle slope of the land that would feel more like a hill on our return.  Luke didn't immediately speak, just walked with his hands in his pockets, admiring the world around us.  When we reached the bottom of the hill, we stopped in the shade of a stand of poplars that guarded a nearly empty stream.  Luke leaned against one of the trees and looked past me again, the way he had in the barn that one day when I'd wanted to throw farm equipment at his head.

             
Today, I thought that staring past me was just Luke's way of dealing with the awkward, tongue-tied moments of life.  Maybe I wasn't as alone in my discomforts as I thought.

             
Maybe I wasn't as alone as I'd felt in many ways…

             
"Kitty, I meant what I said to William earlier."

             
I didn't feel tongue tied around Luke.  Too much had gone on between us, friendship and its loss and the fire. 

             
"You've said quite a bit to William of late," I said. 

             
"About the Getties' grain farm."

             
I raised my brows.  "David Lord said it's not even for sale yet."

             
"He told me it will be. Mr. Getties will have to pay for a lawyer and for restitution, and he may very well go to prison.  Mrs. Getties will go home, or to prison, or to somewhere, but I don’t see that woman staying in that house or on that farm."

             
"She was Sarah's friend," I said.  I didn't want to banish anyone who made Sarah happy.

             
Luke shook his head, briefly pursing his lips.  "Cynthia Getties is no one's friend.  She's not quite sane, I think, Kitty.  Whether she started that fire or only tried to put it out, she was still a part of her husband's plan."

             
Without thinking, I said, "Poor Sarah."

             
"She's better off with you as her friend," Luke said and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

             
I looked up, startled.  "I'll be in Gold Hill."  I couldn't really impose on my sister.  That was a dream.  It was time to wake up.  She hadn't left me, and now she'd be better, somehow, and I would go home and leave everything here, leave—

             
Luke—

             
Somehow.  And—

             
He kissed me.  Gently, and not completely unexpectedly.  The kiss was harder than the one the night before, as if he'd had time to think about it.  As if he'd had time to think about everything he wanted and begun to make plans.  Some people are better at planning ahead than me.

             
"I'm buying the Getties' grain farm," Luke said.  "As soon as it goes on sale.  Sooner, if I could, but I'll need to wait until they have to sell and get a better price.  My brother, the veterinarian, is loaning me the down payment."

             
I started to say something to that, because if the farm was lucrative, he could pay that back, and because it was a wonderful gesture from his brother and because I was excited for him. 

             
Luke interrupted me.  "It's a wedding present," he said.

             
For a stunned second, I didn't realize he meant me.  I didn't even think in terms of Luke and me, I thought,
You're getting married?  That makes no sense.

             
And then I stared at him in surprise.  "Luke?"

             
"You'd be close to your sister," he said.  As if that was the draw.

             
"I'd be close to
you
," I said.  Because
that
was the draw.

             
"Does that mean you'll marry me?" Luke Michaels asked.

             
It meant I wouldn't go home to Gold Hill.  It meant that Mr. Overton couldn't marry me off but he and my mother could enjoy their time together.  It meant I could live mere miles away from Sarah rather than in another state.  It meant I'd be on a farm and I already knew I liked being on a ranch.

             
It meant marrying the man I had fallen in love with because his interests matched mine.  A man who wanted to climb trees and race horses.  A man who loved me and who I loved in return. A man who was my friend.

             
Luke pulled me into his arms as he leaned back against the tree.  Leaves fell into our hair as our mouths met.  His mouth was sun warm, his hands pulling me closer.  I sank into the kiss, feeling Luke all around me, the touch of his legs on mine, the beating of his heart under his ash-stained shirt.  The taste of his mouth, like coffee he'd had earlier and something else, maybe cinnamon. 

             
I'd felt safe the day before, riding through the fiery pasture lands and ranch. I felt safe now, wrapped in his arms, as if he never intended to let go.

             
He was my friend and he was the man I loved. 

             
I'd left home looking for a friend, and found several.

             
Sometimes, my ideas are good ones.

The End