The trepidation in her eyes was enough to confirm he’d made the right decision, and gazing at her heart-shaped face made a smile tug at his lips. Oscar had aptly named her. “Kit” fit her in so many ways. Clay could understand why the man had never told her about Amelia. Her grandfather hadn’t wanted to see her hurt, and he didn’t, either.
“I did. But it’s a really big step.” A crick was forming in Clay’s neck from twisting around so often. “I’m going down, and I’ll get Andrew out of the way before I come back. Don’t move.”
She agreed with a nod. “I won’t. But you be careful.”
The concern in her voice wasn’t wasted on him. He gave her a wink and watched her blush. “It’s not that bad. I just don’t want a greenhorn getting hurt on my watch.” With that, he turned and kneed Andrew.
The dropoff appeared, and there was a moment of being airborne, but as usual, the horse didn’t miss a step. Within seconds Clay reined the animal in at the widest spot of the curve and dismounted.
Kit still sat in the exact spot he’d left her. The rock walls were tight, but there was enough room for her to climb out of the saddle when he asked her to. He stopped near Rachel’s nose, rubbing the horse between the eyes.
“I see you made it,” she said.
His heart knocked against his ribs. Between her smile, the glimmer in her eyes and the teasing in her voice, it didn’t have a choice not to, not with the way his blood raced. “Were you worried?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks reddened. “I don’t know if I could find my way back without you.”
Time stopped for a moment as they looked at one another. Not staring, or gaping, but simply looking. She was one beautiful and determined woman. Oscar would be proud of how she’d embraced the wilderness. Clay was, too.
The chirp of a bird flying overhead broke the silence, and his trance. He blinked and cleared his throat. “I want you to climb down and wait here. I’ll ride Rachel down and come back to help you.”
She flipped a leg over the back of the saddle and lowered herself to the ground, gathering the yards of her dress out of the way as she moved. Then she flattened herself against the rock as he shimmied along the wall to hoist himself into the saddle.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
“I’ll be waiting.”
“You’d better be,” he said, and smiled at her tiny laugh.
Rachel handled the landing fine, and Clay swung out of the saddle, patting the horse on the rump to send her next to Andrew, a few feet ahead.
“That was a rather large step.”
Clay spun around. Though his heart lurched, he couldn’t help but shake his head at the grin on Kit’s face. “I told you to wait.”
“I didn’t need any help climbing down.” Her gaze went to the dropoff a few feet away. “But I’m glad I didn’t have to ride a horse over it.” Tapping her cheek with one finger, as if deep in thought, she said, “You know, I never felt queasy about heights until … well, until I left Denver.”
“Denver’s not in the mountains.”
She cast an impish sideways glance his way. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
He chuckled, and the desire to pull her close was too strong to ignore. When he did drop his arm around her and rub her upper arm, she tilted her head to glance up at him.
“Are you afraid now?” he asked.
An affectionate twinkle appeared in her eyes. “No.”
It was a moment he’d never forget, and his breath stalled. It was as if they spoke to each other silently, and not kissing her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
She grinned and leaned against him.
His blood heated up ten degrees and bubbled through his veins. He patted her arm again and then gave it a squeeze, pulling her more firmly against him. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” he said, gazing over the edge, at the mountain ridge on the other side of the gully.
Nestled in the bright blue sky, the sun cast its rays across the white-tipped peaks, leaving a splattering of miniature rainbows, and down the slope, foliage grew thick and lush.
“Yes, it is.” She let out a sigh. “It kinda reminds me of a row of Christmas trees, all decorated with stars on top.”
“Oscar said you loved Christmastime.”
“I do. Always have. It’s, well, enchanting. Makes one remember miracles do happen.” She twisted, glanced back up at him with a thoughtful gaze. “She left you, didn’t she? The woman you built the house for.”
Clay stiffened and glanced back over the mountain peaks. “Yeah,” he admitted.
“I know all about being left.” Kit’s heavy sigh had him squeezing her upper arm again. She spun then, glancing back toward the rocky path they’d traversed. “The horses can climb back up that?”
Thankful for the change in subject, he turned them both around so they could view the trail. “Nope.”
“No?” Her expression was adorable, a mixture of confusion and mockery.
“No,” he repeated. “They can come down, but it’s too steep going up.”
“Then how do we get back?”
“We’ll follow the rail tracks that haul the ore from the mine to the stamp mill.”
“Why didn’t we come that way?”
“Because this way is shorter and closer to Sam’s camp.” He gave her a final squeeze. “No worries.” Taking her hand, he led her to the horses and hoisted her into the saddle. “It’s not much farther now.”
Her hand wrapped around his as he passed her the reins. “Thanks, Clay. Thanks for bringing me.”
“You’re welcome, Kit. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He snapped his lips together. His mouth had a mind of its own today. As did his heart, which was hammering inside his chest so hard it might explode at any moment.
“I’m sure there’re a million places you’d rather be,” she said. “But I’m glad you’re here. And thanks for saying it.”
He gave her knee a pat and then moved to Andrew, wondering if he’d lost his mind. Or at least half of it. By the time they rounded the last boulder, bringing them within sight of Sam’s camp, Clay figured he hadn’t lost his mind, but a sizable chunk of his heart. He understood why Oscar had talked nonstop about Kit. She was unforgettable.
He held up a hand, signaling her to stop. When she did, he gestured toward the hillside. “We’re here.”
“Here?”
He nodded and, knowing they were being watched, shouted, “Sam!” The single word bounced, repeating several times.
Almost immediately a response came. “Who’s with you, Hoffman?” Sam’s voice started to echo before he finished his sentence, making the words mingle together as they floated about the hills.
Clay waited until the sounds faded. “Someone who wants to meet you.” The anticipation inside him was akin to watching the first load of ore fall beneath the stampers back at the mill. There he waited to see the flecks of gold. Here he hoped he hadn’t set Kit up for more disappointment. Sam was a good kid, but not overly open to visitors. He most likely already knew it was the woman they’d discussed a few days ago, but he just didn’t know who she was. Holding his breath, Clay nodded toward Kit.
“My—” She cleared her throat and started again, louder and stronger this time. “My name’s Kit Becker, Sam. I’m Oscar’s granddaughter.”
Once the echoes died away, the silence that fell hammered the insides of Clay’s ears. He wanted to shout, tell Sam he’d better show himself, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t his choice. He couldn’t take that away from the kid. It was hard to say how Sam would react to Kit. He and Oscar had finally developed a kinship, but it had taken time and hard work, most of it on Oscar’s part.
Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes.
Clay was just about to tell Kit to stay put while he went closer, when a figure walked out from behind a boulder up the hillside.
“You know the way,” Sam shouted.
The tension in Clay’s chest released itself with a long breat
h. “Let’s go meet your brother.”
The expression on Kit’s face teetered between apprehension and joy. A grimace appeared as she asked, “Is he always this friendly?”
Chapter Ten
Kit’s insides gurgled, but she kept her shoulders squared. Life hadn’t prepared her for all she’d encountered lately, and right now she was about as unsure as she’d ever been. It was unnerving and her chest grew so heavy that breathing hurt.
Clay’s hand falling on top of hers—which was clutched to the saddle horn—was just what she needed. The gentle touch gave her fortitude and snapped her out of her disheartened stupor. She wasn’t alone in this. Clay was by her side, and that helped. Immensely. Since arriving in Colorado he’d continued to be at her side just when she needed someone.
“All right?” he asked.
A simple question, yet an encompassing one, and comprehending that, she nodded. When he was near she was all right.
They followed a narrow path uphill, around boulders and between clusters of evergreens and aspens that filled the air with a freshness she’d never known. The sky overhead was blue as blazes, as Gramps used to say, and allowed her once again to appreciate the beauty of the mountains. The trail led to a flat overhang that acted as an entrance to a cave. Near the half-moon-shaped opening stood a tall and lanky young man. He was so thin she wondered if he ate regularly, but more than that he reminded her of some of the street urchins back home.
A powerful ache filled her. This was her brother, not some unwanted orphan. Or was he an orphan? A soul begotten by this world, left to his own devices by no fault of his, abandoned by his family. Not so unlike herself. Her stomach knotted so tightly she flinched.
“Kit?”
She twisted, surprised to find Clay standing next to her horse. The question on his face was clear, but her answer wasn’t. She couldn’t assure him she was fine. It would be a lie. He caught her waist with both hands and once again spoke to her with his eyes, this time asking if she was ready to dismount. She put her hands on his shoulders, wishing he could fill her with hope and assurance once again.
He lowered her slowly, as if giving her knees time to prepare to hold her weight. When her feet did touch the ground, he held her for a moment longer, gazing down at her the entire time. His blue eyes were so perceptive, and the connection she felt—a silent communication between them—was supportive, and went deep, entered her soul in a unique and unusual way. In the past she’d had people she could rely on, Gramps and Grandma, a few friends in school, but never had she experienced this exceptional companionship. This trust that had formed so quickly and felt so strong.
His fingers squeezed her waist, as if he completely understood her deliberations. She took a deep breath and then used a nod to signal she could stand on her own, as her gaze went around his shoulder to Sam. A wave of shame washed over her. When she’d lost her parents, she’d had Gramps and Grandma. But when Sam had lost his parents, he’d been left completely alone.
Clay stepped aside, but slid one hand around her back, holding her steady as she came face-to-face with her brother.
He was tall—not as tall as Clay, but a good six inches taller than her. His clothes were worn ragged in places, but looked clean, and his boots didn’t have holes in the toes.
“Wow,” Sam muttered.
Meeting the startled look blazing in his emerald eyes, she said, “Hello, Sam.” Her mind skipped to the kids she’d seen in Chicago and then the ones at the society house. Orphans were a proud lot and normally didn’t care much for strangers. She could understand that.
Sam ran his hand through his hair, the color of carrots and growing about as thick and wild as the vegetable did. The thought made her grin. That’s how Grandma Katie would have described the tousled mane upon his head. Warmth filled Kit, as if Grandma was beside her right now.
“Wow,” he repeated.
Clay’s fingers, hooked on her waist, gave a gentle squeeze. When Sam turned around in a circle and then opened his mouth as if to mutter “wow” again, Clay interrupted him.
“You already said that, Sam.” He then made a formal introduction. “Kit, this is your brother, Sam Edwards. Sam, this is your sister, Kit Becker.”
Sam pointed a finger at her. “You really, really look like my ma.”
Kit’s insides fluttered. “I do?” Grandma Katie had said that often, and Kit had a picture of her mother, but never saw the resemblance. Hearing Sam say it, she felt a bubble of joy form around her heart.
“Yeah, you do.” He leaned forward and peered closer. “Her hair was different, had more red in it, but your eyes look just like hers.”
Kit didn’t know what to say. Part of her was excited. What Sam said gave her that longed-for connection to her mother, yet did it matter? She couldn’t remember her. The warmth inside her seeped away, and an odd paradox took its place. The irony of who she was and what she was doing. Her legs began to tremble.
Clay’s fingers tightened and he took hold of her elbow with his other hand. “Sam, are you going to make your guests stand out here in the sun, or are you going to invite us inside?”
Sam’s neck reddened. “Sorry, I don’t get much company.” He waved an arm toward the cave. “Come on in.”
Kit had no choice but to follow Clay’s lead. He had ahold of her and expected her to move. On her second or third step, her ankle turned, folding her foot beneath her.
Clay caught her before there was any real pain, and long before she went down. “Are you all right?”
Uncertain about everything, she shrugged. “Just nervous, I guess.”
“You have a right to be,” he said softly. “But I’m not going anywhere, so there’s nothing for you to be nervous about.”
She dug the tips of her boots deeper into the worn dirt below, mainly a reaction to the authenticity in his tone. Due to everything—last night, today, the past year—her emotions were a tangled web of things she couldn’t put her finger on. Feelings she’d never encountered before, and confusion about what they meant. And right now, what she experienced looking up at Clay’s concerned and intense eyes had something balmy and tender swirling around everything else. It was more than trust, what she felt for him.
“I won’t leave you, Kit,” he said.
She wanted to believe that, but everyone she’d ever known had left her, and that set off an explosion of sorts inside her, leaving her skin tingling and a surreal mist clouding her thoughts. His eyes had the ability to draw her in, make her world stop. Or maybe it made it spin faster. Either way, she found it hard to think when he looked at her like that. As if they were the only two people on earth. Maybe the world had spun out of control, tossing the earth’s population into the great span of space and leaving just the two of them in the here and now.
“Promise?” she asked.
His gaze bored deeper as he whispered, “I promise.”
Her heart thudded, drummed in her ears as a new intuition overshadowed everything else going on inside her. She wanted him to kiss her, like he had on the train. The longing grew all encompassing. Her lips tingled, her pulse beat faster and her entire body took on a heated energy. He’d kissed her forehead back at his house, and though that had been comforting, it wasn’t what she wanted right now.
She searched her mind, trying to remember what she’d done on the train for him to kiss her then. Nothing formed. Staring into the crystal-clear depths of his blue eyes was too absorbing.
“Are you two coming or not?”
Clay moved, glanced over his shoulder.
The air Kit had been holding in her lungs left with a rush, as if she’d just been knocked to the ground. Her own shoulders drooped, and a rush of awkwardness burned her cheeks. What had she been thinking? They stood on a mountainside, where she was meeting her brother for the first time. Kissing was probably the last thing Clay had been contemplating. It was the last thing she should be thinking about, too, even with the blood in her veins literally gushing, leaving her flushed from
head to toe.
“Give us a minute, Sam,” Clay said.
The sound of his voice echoed in her ears, and had her going back to contemplating all the ins and outs of kissing. Including how badly she wanted it to happen. Her gaze roamed to his lips. They were thicker than hers, fuller, and—
“Kit?” His lips parted as he spoke.
“Yes,” she whispered. The craving inside her grew agonizing, stealing her breath and making her insides tremble. She closed her eyes. It was enticing, yet powerful and confusing. Finding her breath, she drew in air until her lungs stretched.
“Kit, are you all right?”
Clay’s voice, somewhat urgent, pulled her back, almost as his hands had in the pool of water the first day they’d met. Her eyes snapped open, and the buzzing left her ears. Letting the air out of her chest, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Breathing was easy now, the air flowing as it should. Accepting that, she answered, “Yes, I’m sure.”
Engrossed in her own body, she hadn’t noticed he’d been holding his breath, not until he let out a long sigh. “Good,” he whispered, bending his face downward.
Her heart leaped, sent her blood gushing. Goodness gracious, it was going to happen. He was going to kiss her. She licked her lips, anticipating the moment they’d meet his. She would remember this moment forever. The taste, the feel, the—
Disappointment cooled her faster than her dunk in the pond had. Clay was kissing her; his lips, warm and gentle, were pressed against her forehead. The action was full of affection and it warmed her shivering heart, but it was not what she wanted. Not at all what she wanted. Again.
He lifted his face, and after gracing her with a gentle smile, turned her toward the cave. “Sam’s waiting.”
She took a breath, not only to brace herself, but to release pent-up frustration. He may not have kissed her on the lips, but he’d wanted to. A commanding bout of intuition told her that. It also said one day he would. Kiss her like she wanted. She just had to be patient. It was impossible to know what told her that, but she believed it. The air left her chest slowly, sending out the last bits of dissatisfaction until her lungs were completely empty and ready for a fresh breath. Patience was not something she had a lot of.
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