Page 191 of Conveniently Wed
Leah raised her brows. “I’ve never heard of Apsaroke before. Are they friendly?”
Gideon shrugged, then winced at the movement. “The white men call them Crow, but they call themselves Apsaroke. They’re usually friendly, especially in these parts where there aren’t that many white men. If they were wearing war paint, I might be worried. But they usually try to stay on good terms with us. Wedon’t bother them, they don’t bother us, and we all take care of the land.”
A shiver ran down Leah’s spine. From fear or excitement?
Gideon relished the sharpness of the icy air on his face and the feel of horseflesh beneath him. It had been almost two weeks since his encounter with the bear, and Doctor Leah had finally released him to accompany her as she went out to care for the herd.
Of course, she’d only agreed after he promised not to carry anything heavy or do something dangerous. His lips twitched at the memory of the plucky little woman with hands propped at her waist, her chin locked in determination and both green eyes shooting fire.
The truth was, between his ribs and his head, he’d just now gotten to where he could stand up without groaning and reaching for a chair to keep himself vertical. He’d acted miffed with Leah for playing the part of his jailor, but he probably wouldn’t have been able to mount his horse without help before now.
Getting back out on the trail though, that was what he needed. The world was right. And for some reason, the woman riding on the bay mare behind him seemed to fit perfectly in this right world.
When they reached the upper pasture, he tied both of their horses while Leah grabbed the ax and headed toward the creek. He made his way through the cattle, eyeballing them as he rubbed itchy spots. It was hard to relax, though, with the echo of the ax ricocheting through the clearing. He gripped his handsinto fists to fight the guilt. She shouldn’t be doing the hard work while he stood there useless.
He moved toward the sound, the frustration building as she came into view. Leah’s slight body heaved the heavy ax over her head, then drove it into the frozen creek. Each effort seemed to take every ounce of her strength, and she paused to take a breath after each blow. He stopped himself about ten feet away, gripping the bottom edge of his buckskin so his hands didn’t jerk the ax away from her. This was not right.
After an eternity, she broke through to water. Three more whacks and she had a decent sized hole. She allowed the metal end of the ax to fall to the ground, holding onto the handle like a cane. She leaned against it, her shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths.
He couldn’t stand it anymore. In two long strides, he reached her, then pulled her elbow so she turned to face him. Gideon gripped both of her arms, the ax handle falling to the ground. “Are you all right?”
He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, her chest still heaving under the thickness of his buckskin.Hisbuckskin. A possessive heat flared through him, and his right hand crept up to stroke the leather where it rested on her shoulder.
His gaze found hers again and rested there. “Thank you, Leah. For everything. You’ve been amazing.” If only he had words to tell herhowamazing.
Her mouth opened as if she wanted to speak, but no sound came out. His attention was drawn to that mouth, though, her full lips flushed red from the cold. He couldn’t pull his gaze away, and before he could stop himself, he lowered his mouth to hers.
Oh, she tasted good. Her lips warmed his own with their sureness. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pull back. He forced himself to keep the kiss gentle, but couldn’t wholly stop the desire sheraised in him. He didn’t remember it being like this with Jane. He had no sense of duty with Leah, just this feeling of elation that soared through him. He wanted to be all she desired, wanted to be worthy of her. So much it scared him.
The old familiar fear rose in his chest, but he forced it down, deepening the kiss. He would fight this, he had to. Images flashed through his mind. Abel’s blood on the snow… Four crosses in the little graveyard…
He tore his mouth away from Leah’s and dropped his forehead to rest on hers, squeezing his eyes against the images. He struggled to catch his breath. A gentle hand touched his cheek, but he couldn’t lift his lids, couldn’t meet her gaze.
“Gideon?” Her voice was soft, uncertain.
“I’m sorry…” It was all he could say. He pressed his eyes tighter, hating the pain he knew he was causing. “I can’t do this, Leah. I’m sorry…”
Her head pulled away, and he let his fall, feeling so much the failure. Then something touched his chin—warm and soft and a bit moist. His eyes jerked open and his gaze met Leah’s shimmering green pools.
“It’s going to be all right.”
The earnestness in her expression stopped his breath. Oh how he wanted to believe her. He wanted to trust her. But the fear twisting his gut held him back.
30
Leah folded the bread dough in half as she worked it, kneading and squeezing to mix the ingredients. Her mind wandered back to Gideon, as it usually did these days. Was he still thinking about their kiss last week, too? The pure anguish that had been in his eyes, in the slump of his shoulders, made her chest ache with a physical pain.Lord, please. Help him. Show him Your perfect love casts out all fear.
“So when are you going to tell me what happened?” Miriam’s voice pulled Leah from her prayer as the younger woman sliced meat beside her.
“What happened when?”
Miri rolled her eyes. “When you and Gideon went out to take care of the herd last week. You’ve both been acting strange ever since.”
Leah's brows pinched. “I haven’t been.” At least she hoped she hadn’t. She couldn’t stop worrying about Gideon—or praying for him.
A “humph” from Miriam brought Leah’s attention back. “I may be younger than you, Leah Townsend, but don’t think I was born yesterday. You look at him like you’ve lost your best friend, and he won’t look you in the eye. On top of that, you’ve let him goout by himself every day since that first one. And you knew good as I did he wasn’t strong enough. You’re worryin’ yourself sick.” Miriam sliced through the meat with an extra strong force as if to illustrate her disgust.
She chose to ignore most of what Miriam said and focus on the last. She gave her best look of offended innocence. “I’m not worrying.”
