Diamond in the Dust (Second Chances Time Travel Romance Book 3)

by Peggy L Henderson

  A soft gasp escaped her mouth, just before her extremities weakened as if they would melt right off her. Her chest tightened almost painfully, then exploded with rays of warmth such as she’d rarely experienced. Morgan blinked rapidly to see through the blur of her own watery eyes.

  On shaky legs, she moved further into the room, toward the bed. Gabe lay on his back, cradling Logan in a protective hold in the crook of his arm. Her baby had his thumb in his mouth, nestled against Gabe’s chest, sleeping peacefully.

  Tears rolled down Morgan’s cheek at the most amazing, heart-melting sight she’d ever seen. She swiped a hand across her eyes, and sniffled. A warm sensation originated in the center of her chest, then slowly radiated all throughout her body. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from this big, rough-looking, yet devastatingly sexy man, so at peace in sleep at the moment, and the tender way he held her child.

  She gave a quick, quiet laugh, and sniffled again, wiping at her eyes, and turned away from the bed. Weak and shaky legs carried her to the alcove by the bathroom. Morgan quietly blew her nose into a tissue. She sank against the wall and hugged her arm around her middle, allowing the tears to flow. Tears of unexplainable elation and joy. The image she’d just seen would be burned into her mind forever.

  “You all right?” a deep voice drawled behind her.

  Morgan whirled around to come face to face with the man who’d, moments ago, stolen her heart without even knowing.

  “Logan?” she whispered, her voice foreign in her pounding ears.

  Gabe ran a hand across his face. “I . . . ah . . . heard a noise over here, so I put him down in his crib. He started fussin’ after you left. I apologize if I ought not have picked him up. I’ve heard it’s best to let a baby cry it out or they get spoiled, but it just didn’t seem right, so I--”

  Morgan raised her hand and touched a finger to his mouth. She stepped closer, the masculine scent of his skin adding to her already-heightened awareness of him.

  She locked her eyes with his dark gaze. Gabe’s forehead wrinkled with uncertainty.

  “What you did was perfect,” she murmured, and reached her hand up to curl around the back of his neck. Lifting her finger away from his lips, she slid it along his cheek while tugging his head down toward her. She leaned into him and stood on her toes, then touched her lips to his.

  Standing stiffly for only a second, Gabe’s hands clamped either side of her waist, and drew her up against him. Morgan’s heart pounded in her ears, every part of her in tune to the feel of him holding her close.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth. “Thank you for taking care of my son.”

  She wound her arms fully around his neck, and leaned up closer.

  “Morgan, what—”

  “Don’t,” she said quickly, and silenced him by pressing her lips fully to his.

  Slowly, the tension and stiffness eased from his body. His lips softened, and he parted his mouth, responding to her soft coaxing. All reason left her, and heat exploded inside her when his hands moved along her waist. The soft, tender touch of his fingers stroking her, sliding up along her ribcage and back down to her hips belied the strength and power in his hands. It was as if he was afraid she’d break, as if she were some delicate flower that he might crush if he held her any tighter.

  The heat of his palms moving slowly up and down along her sides in a sensual exploration of her melted her insides. Shivers of pleasure ignited her skin, following the wake of his touch through the fabric of her t-shirt. She leaned fully into him, no longer coaxing him to kiss her. He’d taken complete control of her mouth, covering her lips with his own. Her lungs became a hollow cavern as all air left her, and she gave herself over to the sweet sensation of the languid strokes of his hands.

  Morgan loosened her hold around his neck, sliding her palms down his chest until her arms wrapped around him, delighting in the slight shudder that passed through him. Encouraged by his reaction, her fingers explored the hard planes and contours of the muscles along either side of his spine. One of his arms snaked around her back in response, his hand moving upward at a painfully slow pace until he cupped the back of her head. Part of her wished he’d hold her tighter.

  Gabe weaved his fingers through her hair, kneading her scalp, while his lips made love to her mouth in a tender assault.

  Morgan gripped the back of his shoulders when Gabe leaned over her, pushing her back against the wall. He inhaled deeply, and the pressure of his kiss intensified. Breathing became impossible. Her mind spiraled out of control until nothing existed except his mouth on hers and his hands leaving trails of fire along her skin with his exploring caresses. Her knees had gone completely weak, and she relied on him to keep her on her feet.

  Without warning, he abruptly pulled away from her, and straightened. Panting and breathless, Morgan caught her balance and stared into his midnight black eyes. Regret, indecision, frustration, and confusion all mixed with fierce hunger and yearning.

  Breathing just as hard as she, Gabe ran a hand through his hair and stepped away from her. Morgan reached for his arm, sensing he was about to turn away.

  “Don’t you dare apologize,” she said quickly, her lips quivering.

  Gabe’s eyebrows drew together, and he shook his head slightly.

  “You’re not a whore, Morgan,” he said roughly between clenched teeth. “I ain’t gonna treat you like one.”

  He pulled his arm free of her grip and turned away. Snatching his clothes up off the ground where she’d dropped them, he yanked the door open, and disappeared from view.

  Morgan inhaled a slow breath, and leaned against the wall. She touched trembling fingers to her lips that still pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Her entire body smoldered with the memory of his kiss, his touch. Her heart still hadn’t slowed its erratic pounding minutes later, when she finally moved away from the wall and staggered toward her bed. She sank onto the mattress, and curled around her pillow in a fetal position.

  “And you’re not the bad man you seem to think you are, Gabe McFarlain,” she whispered into the darkness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Morgan brought the truck to a stop in front of a large home built entirely out of wooden logs. Gabe stared at the impressive construction. Large windows gave the place a spacious, open look, and a massive stone chimney rose from one side of the structure. He hadn’t seen many houses built from wood here in the future, and even though it looked nothing like the ranch houses he’d glimpsed on their drive so far, a feeling of familiarity swept over him, as if he’d finally arrived where things might be more like what he was accustomed to.

  Driving through Montana, the landscape had looked familiar to him, but he’d only recognized a few of the landmarks around Bozeman. Houses, towns, and roads had sprung up everywhere. Still, it was home, or as close to home as it would be from now on, and Gabe’s apprehension about the future had lessened the more miles they covered. Green pastures and open range hadn’t disappeared completely.

  Driving up a dirt road after entering the Trails End Cattle and Dude Ranch, they’d passed several large barns, corrals, and smaller log cabins nestled among stands of pine trees, until they reached the main house. A smaller, somewhat less impressive, log home stood some fifty yards away.

  Morgan silenced the engine, and gazed out at the house. She turned her head toward him, and an uneasy, almost sad smile formed on her lips. Gabe cursed under his breath. They hadn’t spoken in what seemed like hours. After what had happened last night, he felt about as low as a snake, and facing her in the morning had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

  Hell. It didn’t matter that she’d initiated that kiss. She’d told him not to apologize, which didn’t make him feel any better about himself. He’d wanted to kiss her since the first time he saw her in daylight, the morning after she found him in the desert, and the urge had only grown stronger with each passing day.

  He’d flirted with her openly, but he had no idea how to interact
properly with her, and he’d overstepped the boundaries from politeness to treating her like one of the girls at the saloon. Any relationships he’d had with women were purely of the physical kind, and those sort of women were compensated for their favors. Morgan wasn’t one of those women, and it had been that thought that had forced him away from her last night.

  What did she even see in him? He had nothing to offer her. Morgan was a kind, caring woman, a lady, even if she didn’t define herself as such. A man didn’t go around sparkin’ with a lady unless he was thinking about courting and marriage; two things that hadn’t ever entered his mind. She might say it was acceptable to her, and acceptable in this time, but she’d soon regret her actions, and see him as the no-account drifter that he was.

  He’d paced the floor of his motel room for the better part of the night, his mind and body alive with the memory of Morgan in his arms. How the hell was he going to keep his thoughts and hands off her from now on? Gabe had eased himself onto the bed and closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to come. He’d quickly opened them again. The scent of Morgan’s hair, the feel of her curves pressed against him, and the touch of her lips on his had only intensified in his mind. In the end, he’d thrown his legs over the side of the bed, and headed for the bathroom to stand under a cold shower in an unsuccessful attempt to rid his mind of Morgan Bartlett.

  He’d cursed his predicament, he’d cursed Reverend Johnson, and he’d cursed his past. Strangely, his thoughts had also drifted to his brother.

  Tyler had been smitten with the woman he had married from the moment he first laid eyes on her, a woman Gabe had all but forced on him, to play a cruel joke. Little had he known that the reverend had sent Laney to Tyler from the future.

  It’s another thing we have in common besides our old man and horses, Ty. We instantly fall in love with the right woman, a woman from the future, or not at all.

  Gabe paused his own train of thought.

  Love? What the hell do you know about love, McFarlain?

  Was Morgan the right woman for him? He didn’t deserve someone like her. She’d cared for him, a complete stranger, with more tenderness than his own mother had ever bestowed on him, more than anyone in his life ever had. She didn’t judge him or look down her nose at him with disdain. He had no idea how to respond to something like that.

  Dammit. You have no right to think about her just because she treats you decent. She doesn’t know about the kind of man you are.

  He’d simply spent too much time in her company since coming here. Once he found work, he’d get her out of his mind.

  Morgan didn’t make an effort to get out of her car. She expelled a deep breath, then turned in her seat to face him. Gabe tensed.

  “I know today has been awkward,” she said, looking directly at him. “I told you this morning that I have no regrets about that kiss, and I hope you don’t, either.”

  Gabe cursed under his breath. Hell. Regrets? He had plenty of those, but kissing Morgan wasn’t one of them. He’d kiss her again right now, but what good would that do other than make him wish even more for something he could never have?

  “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but I think we need to clear the air between us. You’ve said hardly two words to me all day. Just because I kissed you doesn’t make me a whore,” she added, her eyes narrowed.

  Gabe studied her face. The corners of her eyes twitched, and annoyance flashed in them.

  “I never called you a working girl,” he said between clenched teeth, avoiding the harsh word he’d used last night.

  She sat up straighter. “You did, too. Last night you implied I was one, right before you stormed off. Women aren’t black and white in this time, Gabe. There are grey areas, too. I’ve made one mistake with a guy in my life, and it gave me Logan. I have no regrets about that, but it doesn’t make me a whore.”

  Gabe turned fully to her after darting a quick look out the window. This was hardly the time or place to have this discussion with her. He should have made his meaning clear to her earlier. She’d obviously misunderstood.

  “I wasn’t calling you a whore. I was saying that you’re not one, and that I sure as hell wasn’t going to treat you like one.”

  Her forehead wrinkled, and she shook her head. “How were you treating me like a whore? You’re the most respectful guy I’ve ever met.”

  Gabe ran a hand over his face. How could he make her understand? “I ain’t never kissed a woman other than the kind I’ve met in a saloon or whorehouse.” He hardened his face. Maybe if he was blunt with her, she’d see what a lowlife he was, and would finally tell him to go to hell. “And I ain’t never stopped at kissin’, either.”

  He groaned silently when his words seemed to have the opposite effect on her than what he’d intended. There should be loathing and disdain in her eyes for him. Instead, her gaze softened, and her lips curved in a faint smile. “So why’d you stop last night?”

  Gabe sat up straighter and leaned toward her. He balled his hands into fists, itching to wrap them around her arms and throttle some sense into her.

  “Dammit, woman. I done told you. You’re not a whore, and I wasn’t gonna treat you like one by tossin’ you onto that motel room bed and having my way with you.”

  Morgan’s hand reached out, her soft palm covering his hard knuckles. “I think that makes you a decent guy, Gabe. Bryce had no problem ‘tossing me onto his bed’ and taking complete advantage of me after I’d had a bit too much to drink.”

  “I ain’t Bryce,” Gabe growled.

  Morgan laughed softly. “I know that. You’re a much better man than he is. For more reasons than simply walking away after a kiss.” Her hand squeezed the top of his. “You’re a good man, Gabe. When will you see that?”

  She gazed at him with her soft eyes, drawing him to her with some invisible lasso that she’d snared around his heart. No woman had ever favored him with such a look, and the emotions written in her eyes sent a ripple of warmth straight through his chest.

  “What happened to you that’s made you so bitter about yourself?” she whispered. “I want to thank you for walking away last night, but a kiss between two people doesn’t always have to finish up in bed.”

  “It’s because I think highly of you that this can’t happen again.”

  “Why are you so afraid of a relationship, Gabe? We don’t know each other very well, but if you tell me that you haven’t felt that there’s something between us, you’re a liar.”

  Gabe pulled his hand out from under hers, and leaned back against his seat. He drew in a deep breath. “You can’t hitch a horse with a coyote, Morgan.”

  “What does that mean?” she implored adamantly.

  He turned his head to her again. “It means I ain’t fit for your company, and that--”

  A woman’s excited voice drifted from outside the truck, and Gabe tore his eyes away from Morgan. He stared out the windshield. Someone came rushing down the porch steps of the fancy home, waving a hand in the air.

  “I guess we’ve been noticed,” Morgan said, regret in her voice.

  Their eyes met for a brief second before Gabe opened the truck door, and stepped out. He had to get away from her. That tender, pleading look in her eyes would be his undoing. Morgan might harbor some misguided female fondness for him for reasons he didn’t comprehend, but he couldn’t allow it to continue. She’d only get herself hurt by being in his company much longer.

  “Morgan Bartlett, it’s so good to see you again.” An older woman with short blonde hair, dressed in blue denims and a red shirt tucked in at the waist, strode toward the truck with outstretched arms. Morgan met the woman, and the two embraced.

  “Sonja, thank you so much for letting me come and work for you this summer,” Morgan said with a bright smile on her face.

  Gabe stood behind the open door of the truck, unsure of what to do. Logan helped him out of his awkward predicament. The boy began to fuss in his car seat, apparently thinking his mama had forgotten about hi
m when she got out of the cab. He pulled the front seat forward, and freed the boy from his harness.

  “Your mama ain’t leavin you strapped in here, all forgotten,” he mumbled when Logan reached his arms up like he’d done the night before when he started crying.

  Gabe lifted the boy into his arms, and an odd stirring fluttered in his chest when two chubby little hands grabbed hold of the shirt around his neck.

  “Da-da,” he babbled against Gabe’s ear.

  Gabe chuckled. Logan must have been picking up on the name Morgan had given to him, and couldn’t say it any other way.

  “Yeah, you take after your mama. She calls me Desperado, too. You both have got me pegged right, there.”

  Setting the boy on his arm, he walked toward Morgan and the other woman, whose eyebrows rose when she spotted him. So did Morgan’s, just before a look of some deep emotion passed through her eyes that Gabe had no desire to name. She’d been looking at her son, not at him.

  Yeah, that’s what you want to believe.

  Morgan reached out her arms, and Gabe handed the boy over to her. She turned back to the older woman.

  “Sonja, this is my son, Logan, and this,” she nodded toward Gabe, “is Gabe McFarlain. He’s looking for ranch work. Gabe, this is Sonja Owens. She and her family own and run this ranch.”

  The woman’s mouth widened in a warm smile. She reached out her hand, and Gabe shook it. Her eyes darted from him to Morgan, then to Logan.

  “What a lovely family,” she said. “Ashley mentioned you were bringing someone with you. I have a room ready for you here at the house, but I didn’t realize that—”

  Morgan quickly shook her head. “No, Gabe and I aren’t together. He’s . . . just a friend. I’m no longer with Logan’s bio dad.”

  Sonja Owens studied him with keen interest, and Gabe cleared his throat. Her eyes drifted back to the boy. She laughed.

  “If someone didn’t know any better, you sure could pass for Logan’s daddy, Mr. McFarlain. You share similar facial features.”