her blood so thoroughly, she thought steam might rise from the sheet. He added, “I would’ve waited outside on the porch, but it’s raining.”
She saw the downpour through the window and his wet slicker hanging from a peg on the fireplace. “It’s okay, put on some coffee. I’ll be right back.”
He gave her a nod, and she left him alone.
In the kitchen, Garrett hoped preparing the coffee would take his mind off what he’d just seen because he was hard as a length of oak. Granted, last night they’d made love and he’d seen her beautifully nude. However, having her appear with the thin sheet wrapped around her so sinuously in the middle of the afternoon was so unexpected, he was still trying to catch his breath. Tempted by the lure of her veiled nipples and the bare curves of her neck and shoulders he’d wanted to walk over and gently unwrap her as if she were his own personal boon. Even now, his hands longed to slowly circle the sheet over the swells of her hips and thighs before exploring the warm dampness hidden between. Realizing he was only making himself harder, he fought to focus on the coffee-making instead, but it was futile. He wanted her as much as he had last night.
Once the coffee was ready, he poured himself a cup and set the pot on the table. He’d just taken a seat and a sip of his coffee when she returned wearing her usual man’s shirt and a pair of soft buckskin trousers. He was both relieved and disappointed. As if having read his mind, she said, “I can put the sheet on again, if you want.”
He choked on the swallow. Picking up a napkin, he wiped his mouth and shot her an amused, quelling look. “You’re really trying to put me in my grave, aren’t you?”
Her sassy smile made him want to pull her onto his lap and kiss her until sunrise. “Be warned. The next time you’re in that sheet, it won’t be on you for long.”
Having poured herself a cup, she sipped and replied, “I’m holding you to that.”
He enjoyed this playful side of her and wished to be gifted with it more often.
She asked, “So how did you and my brother get along today?”
“We did well.” He told her about meeting Lucky the dog, and Ed Prescott, but refused to bring up the visit to Boyer’s hog farm. He’d taken a bath as soon as he reached the boardinghouse to rid his nose and skin of the putrid stench he swore still clung to him and his clothing.
Spring said, “Ed’s grandparents were very kind to me and Colt after our mother passed on.”
For a few moments she stared silently out at what he guessed was the past, and he was again reminded how much he didn’t know about her. “What were you like as a child?” he asked softly.
“Quiet and well-mannered, like all little girls were supposed to be.”
“Really?”
“Surprised?”
“A bit. I assumed you were rambunctious and rebellious.”
“No. I learned to embroider and read. I knew how to set a proper table, play hymns on our old piano. I was the perfect, properly raised young woman—who loved horses.” She quieted again, as if thinking back, then confessed almost wistfully, “That’s the only part of that girl that remains.”
“Your love of horses.” He wondered if she missed being that girl, and if the cost of having to leave her behind still weighed heavily.
She nodded. “Once Ben and Odell taught me to ride, I fell in love. My mother tried to limit how often I rode because proper young girls shouldn’t smell like horses, she often said. We argued about it a lot, but she finally just gave up, and I rode as often as I could.”
“Why horses?”
“Because unlike some people, they’re loyal, and if you treat them well and provide for them properly, they love you unconditionally and they don’t judge. They also have distinct personalities. Some are serious like Cheyenne, some are jokesters. I’ve run into a few that were downright mean. I enjoy figuring out just who a horse is.”
He’d thought back to Prescott’s grieving mare. He’d received quite an equine education today. “You’re a very fascinating woman, Spring Lee.”
“Unlike Spring Rain, the quiet and shy little girl, Spring Rain, the woman, is rude, sometimes crude, obnoxious, and set in her ways.”
“That’s what’s so fascinating.”
“Is that the standard word you use for luring a woman into bed?”