Page 13 of An Angel for the Cowboy
5
Anita
Dawnbreakswiththinlight filtering through the cabin's small window. I wake to find myself draped across Chance's chest, his arm wrapped around me, his heartbeat steady under my ear.
I lift my head carefully, not wanting to wake him yet. In sleep, the hard lines of his face have softened. I memorize the way his chest rises and falls, the dark stubble on his jaw and the way his hair falls across his forehead. He’s so afraid to love, yet he trusted me enough to let me in a little.
I told him I loved him. The words came out in the heat of the moment, but I don't want to take them back, even though he didn't say them back.
Instead, he showed me in every touch, kiss, and whispered endearment. In the way he held me after, like I was precious, and the way he kept pulling me closer in his sleep, as if afraid I might disappear. He may not be ready to say the words, but his body said them for him.
His eyes open slowly, gray and clear in the morning light, unguarded happiness in their depths. Then awareness creeps in, and I watch the barrier rise.
"Please don't pull away. Not after last night."
He stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the battle happening behind his eyes. Fear versus hope. Protection versus connection. Then something in him softens, and he pulls me down for a kiss. It's slow and sweet and full of all the things he can't quite say yet.
"Storm's passed," he murmurs against my lips. "We should get back."
The fact that we spent the night making love in a line shack while Mel was home alone makes me feel guilty.
"She'll be worried," I say, reluctantly pulling away from his warmth.
We dress quickly in our now-dry clothes, pack up the supplies. The whole time, we keep stealing glances at each other, our hands brushing, the air between us charged with new intimacy. When he helps me with my coat, his fingers linger on my shoulders. When I hand him the water bottles, our hands touch and hold for a beat too long.
Something has shifted between us. There's no going back to what we were before. We've become lovers and more, even if neither of us is quite ready to define what the more means.
The ride back is quiet but not uncomfortable. It’s a beautiful morning, with the sun bright on the snow, making everything sparkle like diamonds. The storm cleared the air, leaving everything fresh. It feels as if we've weathered something difficult and come out the other side stronger.
I watch Chance from the corner of my eye as we ride. He moves with Duke as if they're one creature. There's something about watching him working the land and caring for the animals that makes my chest tight with emotion.
When we get back to the ranch, Mel is waiting on the porch, wrapped in a blanket. She launches herself at both of us the moment we dismount, hugging us tight.
"I was so worried!" she says, her voice muffled against Chance's chest. "When you didn't come back last night, I kept checking my phone. I almost called the sheriff, but then I remembered Dad said to wait until morning if there was a storm."
"We're fine, sweetheart." Chance ruffles her hair. "Storm hit faster than expected. We had to take shelter in the line shack. Did you manage okay here?"
"I fed the horses this morning and made sure everyone had water. Checked the chickens too." She pulls back, looking proud. "I remembered everything you taught me."
"That's my girl." The pride in Chance's voice is clear.
Mel looks between us then, and I see curiosity in her eyes. She's too smart to miss the way we're looking at each other, the new ease in the way we move around each other.
"I'm glad you're both okay."
Chance insists on cooking for us. He makes surprisingly good pancakes that he claims his mother taught him. We sit around the table, and it feels natural. Mel chatters about her evening alone, about the movie she watched, about how she finished all her homework without being asked.
Watching how devoted Chance and Mel are to each other makes my heart swell. I want to be a family with them.
After Mel heads to school, Chance and I fall into our usual work routine. But it feels different. We're checking the cattle that got moved down yesterday, making sure they're all accounted for and settling in the lower pasture. Every time we pass each other, there's a touch. A brush of hands. A stolen kiss when we're sure we're alone.
"You're distracting me," he says with a smile as I ride up beside him on Honey.
I lean over to kiss him. "You've been distracting me since I arrived."
He catches my hand, presses a kiss to my palm. "Tonight," he promises. "After Mel's asleep."
The promise in his voice sends heat racing through me.
