“Nothing to be sorry for.” He fastened the last strap, then grabbed the reins and threaded them through the guides before tossing the ends over the front edge of the buggy.
“It’s not like we don’t have fifty years or so to make up the difference.” He slapped the black on the rump and headed for her, his long legs eating up the distance with disconcerting speed. “That being the case, what has you coming out of your skin?”
The wind gusted around the barn, blowing his hair into his face. He flicked it back with a toss of his head. The morning sun glanced off the sharp edge of his cheekbones and the uncompromising line of his jaw. There wasn’t an ounce of insecurity in the man.
Jenna clenched the folds of the cloak in her hands. “What if she doesn’t remember me?”
He pulled his leather gloves off and tucked the cuffs into the front pocket of his denims.
“She’ll remember you.” It might have been her imagination, but his drawl seemed deeper, softer. She focused her gaze on the tan gloves dangling from his pocket. There was a small tear on the back of one.
“She might not. We didn’t have much time together.”
“Brianna’s not stupid.” That flex of his thigh muscles could have meant anything—he could be uncomfortable or he could be getting impatient. The effort to keep her voice level had her hands aching.
“I did so many things wrong.”
“You did a whole lot right.” The side of his finger under her chin brought her head up. She couldn’t yank her gaze from his.
“How can you know?” It was barely a whisper of sound, but he heard.
“There’s not another woman in the territory with a bigger heart than you, Jenna McKinnely. Brianna isn’t going to forget something like that.”
She caught his wrist in her hand. His flesh was cool from the air. The sprinkle of hairs tickled her palm. “Are you sure?”
He slipped his hand around her neck. “I’m sure.”
She let go of his wrist, letting her fingers slide up the rough fabric of his sheepskin jacket, until they rested atop the hard bulge of his biceps, clinging to the assurance in his gaze like it was a lifeline. The descent of his head blocked out the sun and then his lips were on hers, not with the passion she was used to but with a more soothing touch. He was comforting her, she realized as he brushed his mouth over hers again. The wind whipped the long stands of his hair against her cheeks, and she leaned into his chest, trusting him to support her as she sampled the astounding realization until the last possible moment, feeling a heartbeat of loss as he broke off the kiss.
Clint tucked her into his side with the same casual ease with which he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and said, “Let’s go get our daughter, Jenna.”
* * * * *
The thirty minutes it took to get to Cougar and Mara’s house was the worst of Jenna’s life. With each turn of the wheel along the frozen, rutted road she grew more and more convinced that she was doing the wrong thing. Mara and Cougar were married, in love, and desperate for a child. They could offer Brianna things she never could. Confidence. Security. Two loving parents who loved each other.
She absolutely knew she was doing the wrong thing when they pulled up in front of Mara’s house. It was a mansion. A huge, sprawling log structure that intimidated with its grandeur. She could see Cougar living here. But more importantly, she could see Brianna growing up here. Safe. Respected. Loved.
She caught Clint’s arm as he set the brake. “If Brianna doesn’t remember me, I’m leaving her here.”
It would about kill her, but she wasn’t going to ruin Brianna’s life with her selfish desires. Clint stared at her a long time, his black eyes unreadable, and then he calmly got down from the buggy. A thin layer of ice cracked under his weight. He still didn’t say a word as he came around to her side. He just held his hand out for hers.
She stood. The buggy lurched. Clint caught her around the waist and steadied her. Her hands automatically settled on his shoulders. Through his heavy coat she could feel the shift of muscle. She gathered her courage as he lowered her. As soon as her feet hit the ground she said, “I mean it, Clint.”
“I hear you.” He steadied her as she found her balance. It was such a little thing, but he was always seeing to the little things, and it always made her feel more important than she probably was.
“Why don’t you sound concerned?”
He cocked his eyebrow at her. “Probably because I came here to take my daughter home, and I’m not leaving without her.”
She glanced at the house, and flinched away from the reality as wind whipped her cloak around her legs. “She may be settled.”
“I’m sure Cougar and Mara have taken wonderful care of her, but she’s our daughter.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Probably because it’s true.”
“But Cougar and Mara—”
His finger over her lips silenced the painful suspicion eating at her.
“Will have kids of their own some day,” he finished for her. “Kids who will grow up as close as brother and sister with Brianna, but Brianna is ours.”
The wind blew again. Clint watched his words sink past Jenna’s confusion. She blinked as a stray hair blew across her eyes. He reached up and brushed it away, letting his fingers linger at her temple as she visibly wrestled with herself. And sighed.
She had no confidence, no belief that anyone would want her for anything, but that wasn’t why she was willing to leave Brianna here. He knew that. He was beginning to see how her mind worked. She wanted the best for Brianna and she knew Cougar and Mara were guaranteed. In contrast, she saw herself as the wild card in the mix. The potential ruination of that little girl’s life. As if anyone who could love so deeply, so unselfishly, could ever be anything but the best.
“I want our daughter, Jenna.”
“Really?” She about tore his heart out with the desperate hope in her face.
“Really.” She stood looking at him, saying nothing more, her expression a mixture of hope and fear, her doubts so loud he could hear them. He pulled her against his chest with the next gust of wind, turning them slightly so he took the brunt. “I want you both.”
“I don’t want to ruin her life.” That plump lower lip of hers that drove him crazy with his need to nibble on it, slipped between her teeth.
“Then act like her mother.”
He felt ten times a heel the minute the words left his mouth, but damn it, it pissed him off when she put herself down like that. His hand on her back kept her from flinching away.
“Brianna needs someone who will stick by her, Jenna, not run the minute the doubts start.”
“I want to be her mother.” No one hearing the hope in her voice could disbelieve it.
“Then do it.”
“Just like that?”
He nodded. “Just like that.”
Her hands came up against his chest, their pressure slight. She leaned back. He didn’t give her room, so all she ended up doing was arching over his arm, exposing the vulnerable hollow of her throat. He leaned down, taking full advantage, pressing his lips against the rapidly beating pulse there.
“You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Jenna.”
Her “I am?” drifted over his head. He kissed the soft spot under her ear.
“Yes.”
He pulled back as her breath hitched, just far enough that he could see her eyes. Flecks of deep blue broke up the clear sky blue of her eyes. Their shade darkened as determination shoved out doubt.
“I’ll love her so much she’ll never feel lonely.”
“You do that.” He couldn’t imagine anyone loved by Jenna feeling lonely.
“I’ll try to love you, too.” Her fingertips curved into his chest hard enough that he could feel the pressure through his coat. He could tell that she meant it, and the part of him that he’d thought long dead stirred with hope. He squashed it.
“I left lovable behind me a long time ago, Sunshi
ne.”
“You don’t want me to love you?”
“I don’t think that’s something that can be forced.”
She didn’t argue with him. She never argued with him, but her chin set in a stubborn tilt. She clearly had her own idea on the subject, and as much as he knew he should say something to knock down her plans, he didn’t. If she was determined enough to find something lovable about him, he was selfish enough to take advantage of her soft side. He finally settled on, “I’ll be content with your cooperation.”
“With what?”
He slid his hand bend her neck tipping her chin back with his thumb. “This.”
He brought his mouth to hers. Her lips parted immediately at the brush of his tongue, tempting him with the moist heat beyond. He pulled her closer, pressed deeper. She relaxed against him, accepting his lead, sparking his lust higher with the knowledge that she’d let him do whatever he wanted even as it prodded the remnants of his conscience with her vulnerability.
“Should I put Tidbit down for her nap so you all can go back and finish up your honeymoon?”
The amused question sliced through Jenna’s complacency with the efficiency of a knife. She went from relaxed to board stiff in the space of a heartbeat. Clint pulled back a breath, pressing Jenna’s face into his chest.
“Go devil your own wife, Cougar.”
“Got her right here.” A muted squeal punctuated the statement.
Clint shook his head. For a man who spent every waking moment making sure nothing ever disturbed a hair on his tiny wife’s head, Cougar spent an inordinate amount of time deviling her. Looking down at Jenna’s red face, her lips swollen from his kiss, he began to understand why. There was something very tempting about a woman caught between propriety and passion.
“We’ll be right in,” Clint called, running the backs of his fingers over Jenna’s hot cheek, an inner smile springing to life as she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand.
“You might want to hurry it up before your wife freezes solid,” Cougar admonished.
“Are you cold?” Clint arched a brow at Jenna. She shook her head, blushed anew, and took a deep breath. The wind gusted and his hair whipped across her face. The dark strands stood out starkly against her pale skin. He pulled them off her face, leaving it clear again. “Good.”
“I’ll put the coffee on,” Mara called.
“Thanks.” As soon as the door thunked shut, Jenna said, “I don’t like that man.”
“He grows on you.” Clint kissed the top of her head. She remained silent on the subject, but tucking her into his side wasn’t as easy as before due to the stiffness in her spine. He sighed, steering her in the direction of the house. “Cougar’s a good man, Jenna. A good friend to have.”
“He doesn’t like me.”
“He likes you as much as I want him to.”
She stopped dead. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. “ She didn’t move, just stared at him. He sighed and gave her the truth. “I’m a possessive man, Jenna. I don’t like the idea of any man taking a shine to you, married or not.”
“I think you’re pretty safe.” Her cheeks pinkened up again, and she ducked her chin.
“If you promise not to get a swelled head, I’ll fill you in on a little fact.” He was safer letting her think no man found her desirable, but every woman deserved to know she was special, and his Jenna more so than most.
Her only response was a barely discernible, “What?” and a flash of blue in the corner of her eye. He put them back into motion.
“You are the talk of all the men at the saloon.”
“They think I’m loose?” She stiffened and came to a halt. He shook his head at her, titled her chin up, and kissed her cold lips.
“They thought you were too beautiful to resist.” Her mouth formed a startled “Oh”. He traced it with his tongue before he whispered, “And I had to bloody more than one nose when talk wandered into disrespectful.”
“Other men think I’m pretty?”
She acted as if she couldn’t get her mind around the fact. He was surely shooting himself in the foot, but it galled him that she didn’t see herself the way he saw her.
“Men get hard just at the mention of your name.” That had her turning a brilliant red.
She caught his hand in hers. “No one ever approached me.”
“You were in mourning, and didn’t need a bunch of hungry men pestering you.”
“You kept them away?” Her soft blue eyes searched his.
“Yes.” Damn, she was quick. He braced himself for her anger. Her fingers squeezed his.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“I wouldn’t have liked men courting me then.” Meaning she would now?
“You married me.”
“Yes.” She smiled just enough to have her dimples flirting in and out of view and resumed walking.
Which told him nothing.
“This house is very impressive.” She paused at the foot of the steps to the porch, looking up at the ornate network of beams supporting the roof.
He’d rather talk about that “Yes” and how she felt about marrying him.
“Cougar was in a mood when he built it.”
“What kind of mood?”
“A ‘kick ‘em in the teeth’ kind of mood.”
She stared at him, then at the building, and then back at him. “Who’d he want to kick?”
“Everyone who ever spit on him or looked down on him because of his blood.”
She frowned. “Did you ever have a mood?”
“Nah.” She was obviously not going back to the men subject. He took her elbow and helped her up the first step. “But it was different for me. Cougar’s pa dragged him from pillar to post, whereas I grew up here, back when things were so small that everyone within spitting distance was kin.”
“So you grew up happy?”
“Yes.”
“And Cougar?”
“He grew up mean.” The tension in her arm told him he’d chosen the wrong term. “Cougar hasn’t had it easy, Jenna, but for all he can gut a man without blinking an eye, he’s a man you can count on, and the man I turn to when I need someone to watch my back.”
“I won’t offend him.”
“Good.” The tension didn’t leave her muscles. He squeezed her elbow. She took a step. He tugged her around. She fell against his chest with a startled cry. “If you ever need help, Jenna, and you can’t find me, you go to Cougar.”
She blinked. “I’m sure it won’t be necessary.”
“Promise me, Jenna.” He didn’t have the patience for evasion. Not on this. She glanced over her shoulder at the door and then back at him. He had to wait for her to make up her mind.
“I promise.” She said it in that sexy, husky voice of hers that had him hard in an instant. He set her carefully away. If he walked through the door with a hard-on, Cougar wouldn’t let him hear the end of it for a month of Sundays.
“Good.”
She turned, back straight, and marched up the step. He admired the sway of her skirts as she reached the top, adjusting his denims as his cock thickened and stretched down his thigh. Four more days until her woman’s time was over and he could have her again. She brushed her hands over her hips, smoothing her skirt, making his palms itch to smooth over the softer fullness of her buttocks.
Son of a bitch, he was never going to make it. He came up beside her and pinched her butt through her cloak. As she jumped, he opened the door, ushering her into the warmth of the house, feeling an equal warmth spreading out from inside as he entered his cousin’s house for the first time as a married man.
* * * * *
“You still planning on keeping her?” Cougar asked as he passed Clint a cup of coffee an hour later.
Clint took the cup and glanced across the big room to where Jenna sat with Mara, exclaiming over Brianna’s latest trick, which appeared to be waving her arm aimlessly over her head.
“Seeing as we’re married, I don’t see where that’s relevant.”
“You can always have the marriage annulled.”
“The marriage has been consummated.” Clint took a cautious sip of the hot coffee.
“Throw enough money at a problem, and anything can be fixed.” Reading between the lines, Clint knew that meant Cougar would bankrupt himself if necessary to free Clint. Cougar smiled and shrugged as he settled back in the red leather chair.
“I’m happy with my marriage.”
“Then why the long face?”
“Wasn’t aware that it was.”
“Uh-huh.”
He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and let the coffee dangle between them. “I think that husband of hers was a bigger son of a bitch than either of us guessed.”
“Why?” The laziness left Cougar’s posture as he sat up.
“She’s been whipped.”
“Jesus!”
“Yeah, that was about my thought.”
“That bastard husband of hers died too quickly.”
“At the time I was more interested in expediency than revenge.” Clint tightened his grip on his cup and beat back the residual anger.
The corners of Cougar’s lips curved in a lethal mockery of a smile. “A damned pity you can’t call a do over and put him in the grave twice. This time not so fast, and not so clean.”
“I’m not sure that would solve anything.” Except maybe give him an outlet for the rage that kept creeping up on his blind side.”
“You don’t think he did it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Why not?”
He looked up, meeting Cougar’s amber gaze with his own. “Because Jenna won’t say so.”
Cougar grunted and then asked, “Any chance her father did it? I heard he was a real Bible-thumper with some strange notions and a penchant for drink.”
“Maybe.” Clint shrugged.
“But you don’t believe it?”
“No.” Feeling like he was betraying a confidence he gave Cougar the unvarnished truth. “The scars are on her breasts.”
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