“Two whole beers?” he said sarcastically. “How could they stand that kind of isolation?”
“They didn’t for long. You notice I said they were all young men. They worked for my father for the adventure of sleeping under the stars in the Outback, which they did during the muster—the roundup—on iron cots covered with mossy nets—that’s mosquito nets.”
She smiled ruefully and said, “I shouldn’t have left out mosquitoes when I mentioned the wildlife in Australia. Anyway, the ringers saved money, because there was nothing to spend it on. When the romance had gone out of being in the Outback, they went home to the city, to their girlfriends or wives.”
“Men left their wives behind? For how long?”
She shrugged. “Most never lasted more than a year or two on the station, but there were always other young men eager for a brief escape from the world.”
“But you were stuck there.”
“I was stuck,” she agreed. “To be honest, I loved my life. At least, I did until I got old enough to start wondering about what it might be like to kiss one of those young men who worked for my father.”
Devon felt a surge of jealousy at the thought of Pippa kissing another man and tamped it down. She was here now. Those men were long gone and far away.
“I knew it was likely none of them would hang around long enough to become a husband,” she said. “I would have been better off looking for a nice young man in Underhill.”
She paused, and he finished the thought for her. “But Underhill was forty-five minutes away. And the adventurers who worked for your father were right under your nose.”
She grimaced. “Too right.”
He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but she clearly wasn’t done with her story, and he was afraid if he did, he would never hear the rest of it.
“If I’d had a mother,” she said, “or another woman at the station, I might have had someone to confide in when I began to have feelings for one of my father’s wranglers. She would have cautioned me, or perhaps even betrayed me to my father, which would have prevented what happened.”
He suddenly knew what she was going to say without having to hear it from her lips. “You ran away with one of your father’s hired hands.”
One of the tears that had brimmed in her eyes slipped onto her cheek. She swiped it away almost angrily. “His name was Tim Brandon.”
He wanted desperately to ask what had happened next. Obviously, she hadn’t stayed with the man. She was here in Wyoming, and the ringer was nowhere to be seen.
His patience was rewarded when she explained, “Shortly before we moved here, I ran away to Darwin with Tim.” She hesitated, then added, “I was head over heels in love with him.”
Devon hissed in a breath. That explained why she hadn’t wanted to be more than friends with him. She was still in love with the other man. That didn’t explain why she was here and her lover wasn’t. He forced himself to ask, “What happened?”
She untangled her legs and dropped them on the floor, then looked at Devon with bleak eyes. “I’d left a note for my father telling him I was running away with Tim, because I didn’t want him to worry. Which was a good thing, because Tim walked out on me when—”
She cut herself off and shot Devon an anxious look. Her gaze remained focused on her tangled hands, and she said nothing more for the next few moments, all the while chewing on her lower lip, as though deciding whether to finish her sentence.
Devon wondered what had caused Tim—what would cause any man—to walk out on her.
She lifted her chin and said almost defiantly, “It wasn’t until we’d run away to Darwin that Tim admitted to me that he had a wife in Sydney.”
Devon bit back an oath.
“As you might imagine,” she continued hurriedly, “I was devastated. When I protested that he should have told me sooner, he walked out, and he didn’t come back.”
He rose and pulled her out of her chair and into his arms, holding her close and rocking her. He realized he was trembling with rage. “I’d like to get my hands on that sonofabitch.”
“My father expressed exactly the same sentiments when he arrived—about an hour after Tim had left.” She leaned back and looked up at him. “So you can see why I believe my father might haul me back home if he found me here with you. He would want to save me from myself. He’d think I’ve allowed myself to be fooled by another young man. He’d think…” She focused her gaze on his face, a frown between her brows. “He’d think we’re a lot more than friends, when we’re not.”
Devon edged his hips away, because despite having taken her into his arms merely to comfort her, his body was reacting with a lot more than friendliness.
She stuck her nose against his throat and slipped her arms around his waist. “Thanks for listening. And for understanding.”
He understood, all right. What he understood was that she’d recently suffered a terrible heartbreak and that despite being abandoned by her lover, she might still have strong feelings for the bastard. He understood that she might not trust any man—not even him—enough to fall in love again anytime soon. And he understood that he might be setting himself up for a lot of pain if he fell any further under her spell.
He should let her go. He should do his best to talk her into calling her father. Instead he hugged her tight and said, “You’re safe here. No one will bother you. Tomorrow is soon enough to decide what you want to do next.”
Chapter 15
WITHIN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS of her “disappearance,” Pippa’s father discovered—entirely by accident—where she was. Brian mentioned to Aiden at church that Pippa was with Devon—and was overheard by Connor’s four-year-old daughter. The little girl then innocently repeated what she’d heard to Matt.
Matt immediately called Devon at home and demanded to speak to Pippa.
“Don’t come here, Daddy,” she warned him. “If you try to take me back to Kingdom Come, I’ll only run again. I need time alone to think.” Pippa waited with bated breath, afraid that her father was going to argue, bracing herself for a confrontation.
After a long hesitation, he surprised her by saying, “Fine. I’ll stay away if you promise to get in touch if you need anything.”
Pippa released the breath of air she’d been holding. She wasn’t sure why her father had decided to give her the space she’d asked for without making a fuss, but she was grateful to him for it. She decided to take him up on his offer and said, “I need some clothes and toiletries.” She listed them, then finished, “I’d appreciate your having them delivered here.”
She hoped that hint would be enough to keep him from bringing them himself, and it was. The next day, one of her father’s hired hands dropped off the items she’d requested.
When Pippa opened her suitcase, she almost threw away the note she found inside without reading it. She didn’t want to see in writing all the reasons her father thought she should come back home. When she finally opened it, she discovered it was from her brother. It said:
I miss you, Pippa. Come home soon.
Nathan
She burst into tears, and Devon came running to see what was wrong. She waved the note and said, “My little brother misses me. We’ve never been separated before.”
He pulled her into his arms and hugged her, which only made the tears flow more freely. Pippa put her arms around him and held him tight. She’d been as much a mother as a sister to her little brother, and it was hard to leave him behind. But she knew Nathan had at least one aunt—Leah—who doted on him, and their father spent as much time as he could with her little brother. Nathan would be fine. It was just hard walking away from someone she loved so much.
She loved her father, too, but he was the one putting roadblocks in her way. Leaving him was necessary if she wanted the space to figure out—on her own—what to do with the rest of her life. She sniffled once, then stepped back.
She swiped away the last of her tears and said, “Thanks for the hug, Dev
on. I needed it.”
“Anytime.” He smiled his lopsided smile, and Pippa felt her heart lift and soar like a bird on the wing.
She took another step back and stared at him, wondering what it was about Devon Flynn that made him seem so irresistible. It wasn’t just his looks, although his strong, lean body appealed to her, and his face, with its pronounced cheekbones and straight nose and wide-spaced green eyes, drew her gaze whenever he was near. And it wasn’t just his smile, although his smile made her smile—inwardly, if not outwardly—whenever she saw it. It was something else…
Pippa ended up with far more time to figure out what that “something else” was than she’d ever imagined. What she’d expected would be a few days or maybe a week with Devon quickly turned into three weeks.
Their days developed a “friendly” routine that felt comfortable. Breakfast together, then time in the barn—Devon with his injured wild animals and Pippa with the recalcitrant black stallion. Afterwards, Pippa went along with Devon on horseback as he made sure his fence was secure and checked his cows and their calves and his quarter horses for injuries or death from predators.
Sometimes they took along a picnic lunch. Other times they returned to the house to eat. Pippa often sat beside Devon in the afternoon as he explained how his cow-calf operation worked, how his quarter-horse breeding program was coming along, and how he dealt with the business of running a ranch. She’d brushed his arm with her breast once by accident and heard him hiss in a breath of air. After that, she was careful to keep her distance, but she noticed that the palpable tension never left his body whenever she was near.
She often saw what she thought was longing in his eyes, but he never acted on it. However, that didn’t keep her from feeling its effects. She would watch Devon caress the orphaned fawn and the rabbit with the torn ear and shiver as she imagined his hands on her naked flesh.
Pippa did nothing to encourage Devon, but she did nothing to discourage him, either. Whenever they touched, electricity arced between them. She wanted him to hold her and kiss her and put himself inside her. She simply chose not to act on those feelings. For whatever reason, Devon was also careful to limit their physical contact, so the issue of perhaps turning their friendship into something more romantic never arose.
Their evenings were spent in front of the fire talking. That was where Pippa learned that, while Devon wanted to know everything about her, he was reluctant to share anything about himself.
Once she’d asked him, “Why do you live so far from your family?”
He’d merely shrugged.
“I would have given anything to have a sister or brother my own age when I was growing up,” Pippa said. “Why don’t you see more of your brothers? I mean, I’ve been here nearly three weeks and no one’s come to visit, nor have you visited them. As far as I can tell, you haven’t spoken to Aiden or Brian or Connor on the phone either, since that call from Brian the day I came here.”
He stared at the fire, seemingly lost in thought. A small furrow appeared between his brows before he finally said, “My brothers haven’t come to visit because they’re busy with their own lives. I haven’t called because I have nothing to say.”
Pippa hadn’t believed a word of it. She was certain his brothers stayed away—and Devon kept his distance from them—because he wanted it that way. But why? What had caused him to become an outcast? She’d asked him the same question on different nights in different ways, but he always managed to avoid giving her a straight answer. It was a mystery she was determined to solve, because she was slowly coming to understand that Devon Flynn lived a very lonely existence, like a wild and wary wolf without a pack.
It was toward the end of her three weeks with Devon that Pippa woke early to discover snow falling in large, gentle flakes. She’d never experienced a snowfall in the tropical climate where she’d grown up, and the idea of romping in fresh-fallen snow was irresistible. She dressed quickly and went to knock on Devon’s office door.
“Devon, wake up!” she called urgently.
A moment later he yanked open the door. It was obvious that she’d woken him. His hair stood in spikes, and he was naked and wrapped from the waist down in a sheet.
Pippa stared. In all the time she’d spent at Devon’s home, she’d never seen him when he wasn’t fully dressed. The sight of his bare chest—with a V of dark hair that arrowed downward, disappearing beneath the sheet—and an abdomen ridged with muscle, caused a stab of desire that made her gasp.
His hand fisted more tightly around the sheet at his waist as he asked, “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
“It’s snowing.”
He looked confused. He turned to stare out the office window, which bore signs of frost. “I see. What’s the problem?”
“I just thought…We don’t have snow where I come from. I never imagined it was so beautiful when it falls. I wondered if you’d want to go for a walk with me.”
His lips tilted up on one side, and she felt her body tighten in response to his warm smile. “Really? No snow?”
She smiled back. “Nope. How about it?”
“Give me a couple of minutes to get dressed. I’ll be right out.”
She stood there for a few moments after he closed the door waiting for her heartbeat to slow, then turned and headed for the front porch. She immediately saw why the porch roof was so important. Apparently, it had been snowing throughout the night, because there were nearly two feet of the white stuff surrounding the house and beautiful layers of it on the branches of the surrounding evergreens. She heard the front door open, and Devon joined her on the porch.
“It’s so quiet,” she said, her voice almost reverent. “I’m used to torrential rain and howling winds in the winter. It’s a lot noisier than this gentle snowfall. And not nearly as beautiful.”
“It isn’t always like this. Wait till you see a Wyoming blizzard. But I know what you mean. A gentle spring snowfall like this is pretty amazing. What would you like to do first?”
“Make a snowman!”
He stepped down off the porch and gathered a handful of snow, letting it sift through his fingers. “Too powdery.”
“How about a snowball?” she asked hopefully.
“Huh-uh. Same problem.”
She felt disappointed, and her face must have shown it, because he said, “How about a snow angel?”
“What’s that?”
He held out his hand and said, “Come here.”
She came down the steps and took his bare hand. Despite the snow, it didn’t feel cold outside. She dipped a boot toe tentatively into the snow and then kicked her way joyfully through it as he led her away from the house.
He found a spot near a snow-dusted pine and let go of her hand. “Ready?”
“What do I have to do?”
“Watch and learn.” He spread his arms and fell backward, then waved both arms and legs in the snow, clearing it away. He sat up, looked behind him, and said, “That’s a snow angel.”
Pippa laughed, then fell backward beside him, creating her own snow angel. “It’s cold!” she cried as the snow slid under her collar and melted on the back of her neck.
“Come here,” he said, catching her arm and pulling her over on top of him. “I’ll keep you warm.”
He was smiling up at her, and Pippa laughed as she looked down into his happy face from a mere six inches away. Then she realized that her legs had slid down over either side of his hips, and that a very warm, very hard part of him was pressing against a very soft, very willing part of her.
The smile left her face as she searched his eyes. She saw desire flare and felt an answering response that raced through her body. It was clear he was ready and willing. The decision was up to her. Pippa was tired of resisting. Tired of being sensible. She lowered her head until their lips met.
His lips were soft, but his kiss was urgent. He took her deep so quickly that she was soon panting with need, seeking pleasure by pressing herself against the ha
rd ridge between her thighs.
She put her cold hands against his warm, bristled cheeks as she kissed him, their tongues dueling. She could feel his hands on her buttocks, pressing her against the proof of his need.
Suddenly, something pounced on them.
Wulf apparently thought they were playing in the snow and wanted to join in. He knocked her aside with his shoulder before landing square on Devon’s belly with both paws, causing him to issue an inelegant “Ooof!”
“Wulf, get off!” he said, shoving at the heavy animal and trying to sit up. Wulf bounded away, but then returned and knocked Devon back into the snow before returning to lick at Pippa’s face.
She pushed the wolf away, laughing. “Cut it out!”
Wulf bounded back and forth, from one to the other of them, spraying snow in all directions, until Devon managed to get to his feet and reached out a hand to help Pippa up. “He’s not going to give us any peace until he gets his breakfast.”
Pippa let go of Devon’s hand as soon as she was on her feet. She felt shy meeting his gaze. What would have happened if Wulf hadn’t shown up? Would they have ended up in bed together? They’d certainly been headed in that direction. And then what?
Pippa realized that, as hard as she’d been trying to uncover Devon’s secrets, she’d been equally determined to protect her own. He knew no more about what had caused the rift between her and her father now than he’d known the day she’d shown up at his door. He had no idea she was carrying another man’s child. And it wasn’t fair to either of them for her to allow a romance to develop before she told him that she was pregnant.
Pippa felt ashamed of herself for being Tim’s dupe. And angry with Tim for deceiving her. And miserable about hiding the truth from Devon. “We’d better go inside.”
“We can take a walk after breakfast, if you like,” Devon offered.
Pippa shook her head. She couldn’t take the chance of being charmed again by the snowfall—or by Devon—when she wasn’t ready to tell him the truth. She was afraid it would end this idyll.
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