said.
She should at least smile, for he was teasing, but her heart hung too heavy in her chest.
With his free hand, he lifted her chin and tilted his head, gazing deeply at her. âWhatâs wrong? Youâve been quiet all day.â
His hold didnât allow her to look away. She shrugged. âYou said youâd stay until Joe and Dobbs returned.â
His hand slid along the side of her face, until her cheek rested in his warm palm. âI also said Iâd stay until we find out whoâs camped in the hills and why.â He nodded toward the plains. âTheyâre still there, and Iâm still here. Will be until theyâre gone.â
She lowered her lashes, afraid to become too joyous. âSo you wonât leave?â
He leaned closer until their noses almost touched. âI wonât leave,â he murmured.
Her gaze stuck on his lips, and she wondered yet again, as she did most every minute of every day, what it would be like to be kissed by him. Could she ask him to kiss her? Or maybe if she tilted her head, brought her lips up to meet hisâ¦
Clint stood, bringing her out of her chair with him, and caught her when she would have tumbled. âWhaââ
âIâll walk you to the house.â
âT-thatâs not necessary,â she protested.
âItâs raining. I donât want you to slip in the mud.â
âItâs raining?â
âYes, itâs raining.â He pulled her forward.
As she stepped off the porch, large drops splattered her. Clint plopped his hat on her head and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, sheltering her with his body as he ushered her across the yard. Touched by his behavior, and growing giddy, Doreena giggled. He wasnât leaving. Wouldnât be leaving anytime soon.
They arrived at the house and he quickly led her up the stairs, to where the awning blocked the rain. âYou find running through the rain fun?â
She nodded. âWith you, I do.â
He reached up with both hands, lifting his hat off her head. She stood absolutely still, meeting his thoughtful gaze. Her heart stopped beating and her lips parted. He was going to kiss her. Thrilled, excited and enthralled that the moment had finally arrived, she closed her eyes.
âGood night, Doreena.â
Her eyes flew open. Heâd already turned around, was about to step off the porch. She reached out and grabbed his arm.
He put his hat on and patted her fingers. âGo to bed, Doreena. Morning comes early.â Before she could speak, he was sprinting across the yard.
Clint burst into the bunkhouse, shaking the water from his hat as he shut the door. His hat landed on the bed as he paced past it. What had he done? Heâd let her get under his skin, thatâs what. Trouble was, it wasnât like a tiny sliver of wood that festered, but like a torch that had been set ablaze by a match and filled his insides with light.
Plopping on the bed, crushing his hat in the process, he propped his elbows on his knees. Not kissing those pert lips had taken every ounce of discipline he had, but he didnât want to hurt herâever. Didnât ever want to see anything but delight and enjoyment gracing her lovely face, and kissing her, then leaving, would hurt her.
He lifted his head, blankly gazed around the room and contemplated when he could put down roots. The thoughts hung with him the next few days, like apples waiting for the first signs of autumn before dropping to the ground, and made him feel distant in a poignant way. Ironically, it helped, made him make sure they werenât alone in the evenings anymore. Joe Edwards and Thomas Dobbs had returned, and all the men sat on the porch, discussing which chores to do the next day.
This morning, a runner from a bank in Lincoln brought notice of a deposit made by the rendering plant in Iowa. Clint had to hand it to Doreena. Her investment in hogs was certainly paying off faster