right now.»
With quick motions, Caleb tossed the blankets Wolfe had given him onto the tarpaulin, set his saddle in place as a pillow, and crawled into the makeshift bed.
Willow looked around and saw no other blankets. «Where is my bed?»
«Same place it was last night.» He lifted the blankets, indicating the empty half of the tarpaulin. «Right here.»
She looked as shocked as she felt. «I slept next to you?»
«You sure did.»
«But I–I don’t remember it.»
«You were so tired you wouldn’t have noticed if a buffalo crawled in and snored in your ear,» Caleb said. «Now you can sleep next to me and stay warm or you can sleep alone and get cold. Your choice, fancy lady. Either way, put out the fire after you’ve changed your clothes.»
Before Willow could think of a suitable answer, Caleb pulled his hat down over his eyes, shutting her out. Within moments his breathing changed, slowing and deepening.
Willow watched Caleb for a while longer, seeing the even rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took. He seemed to be asleep. Even so, she considered retreating into the brush to dress, but was reluctant to drag the wonderfully dry clothes into the dripping willow thicket. Besides, it would be chilly away from the cheerful leap of flames.
«Caleb?» she whispered.
He didn’t answer. Nor did he stir.
Abruptly, Willow made her decision. Moving slowly and silently so as not to awaken Caleb, she took off her boots and she set down the clothes on the strip of tarpaulin he had left empty. Easing thelongjohn bottoms from the tangle of clothes, she turned her back and left the blanket she was wearing open. Fumbling slightly, she pulled the ribbons that fastened thepantelets around her waist. The thin cotton fluttered down her legs and heaped around her ankles beneath the blanket entirely. She stepped out of the frail cloth and managed to pull on thelongjohn bottoms without dropping the blanket entirely.
It wasn’t easy. Whoever had been the previous owner of the underwear was somewhat smaller than Willow. What should have been a loosely fitted garment covered her like a second, supple skin. The long-sleeved top was as snug as the bottom. The result wasn’t uncomfortable, simply unexpected.
For Caleb it was breathtaking, especially as Willow had tired of wrestling with the blanket and let it drop in order to pull the top of the underwear into place. When she finished, she ran her hands over the soft, warm flannel and made a sound of pleasure. Caleb set his teeth against a groan. He would have given a great deal to have his hands running over the same fabric and to hear Willow murmur with pleasure in response to the touch.
Grimly, Caleb closed his eyes and rolled onto his side, making no noise as he turned his back on Willow. She didn’t notice his change of position when she bent to the new clothes once more, for she was entranced by the feel of the buckskin pants. They were softer than velvet and supple as the wind.
With a murmuring sound of pleasure, Willow ran her palm over the pants before pulling them into place over thelongjohns. Again, the fit was close without being uncomfortable. The top, with its rain-shedding fringe and laces down to her breasts, was as soft as the pants and fitted her just as lovingly. Like the underwear, the buckskins were fragrant with the rose petal sachet that had been tucked in the folds. She took a few tentative steps, feeling as though she might float away without the accustomed weight of skirt and petticoats. The freedom of movement pants gave her was almost startling.
Mother would have an attack of the vapors if she saw me in pants, Willow thought with a combination of amusement andsadness. Butbeggars can’t be choosers.
Besides, the pants are warm and they cover as much of me as a skirt would. They just don’t cover it in quite the same way.
All that remained were the Levis and the wool lumberman’s jacket with its big checks of blended red and black. The Levis were looser than the other clothes, as was the jacket. The derringer fit so nicely in one of the jacket’s large front pockets that Willow left it there. The fly front fastening of the Levis baffled her for a moment, then her fingers went to work over the stubborn steel buttons. Finally, she shoved her arms into the jacket’s sleeves. The jacket had been made for a man rather than for a woman, which meant that the buttons were on the wrong side. Both Levis and jacket had been worn enough to make them flexible.
Willow picked up the pearl-gray, flat-crowned, wide-brimmed hat that had been rolled among the clothes. A few strokes of her hands pushed the hat back into shape. She put it on her head, fastened the chin strings, and wished she had a mirror.
«Just as well I don’t,» she muttered softly. «My hair must look like river weed.»
The warmth of the clothes seeped into Willow, making her realize how long it had been since she had been dry. Almost fearfully, she glanced up at the sky. No clouds were overhead, but that was no guarantee that it wouldn’t rain later on. By the end of daylight, clouds could easily pour down from the peaks in one squall line after another.
Wind blew with a long, lonely cry, reminding Willow of the icy night she had endured. Sparks leaped up from the flames. Quickly she pulled apart the fuel, and the fire guttered and died. As she banked the few coals in ashes, she regretted the loss of warmth. She looked at the narrow strip of tarpaulin that remained and realized all over again what a big man Caleb Black really was. The thought was daunting, but not as dismaying as the idea of lying down on the cold, wet ground in her dry clothes.
Making no more motions than necessary, she removed her hat, jacket, and Levis, lowered herself to the tarpaulin, and eased beneath the blankets. The feel of Caleb’s body so close to her own was unnerving at first, but when he showed no awareness of her, Willow relaxed, enjoying the warmth that radiated from him. With a long sigh she fell asleep.
It took Caleb a lot longer, but he, too, finally slept. As was his custom, he awoke periodically, listened to the small sounds around him, and fell asleep once more. At one point, somewhere between waking and sleeping, he found himself with his arm around Willow, her head snuggled against his shoulder and her arm flung across his chest. Smiling, he eased the blanket higher, pulling it over their heads, shutting out the light, creating a world whose only inhabitants were himself and the girl who slept so trustingly in his arms. As Caleb fell asleep once more, the scent of rose petals curled around him, residue of clothes once worn by British aristocracy.
The last time Caleb awoke, the ravine was filled with the slanting golden light of very late afternoon and Willow was tucked against him spoon-fashion. Both of them were lying on their left side. His arm was around her waist, holding her close. The warm weight of her hips nestled intimately in his lap had a predictable effect on his body.
Motionless but for the heavy running of his blood, Caleb told himself all the reasons why he would be a damned fool for sliding his hands beneath Willow’s clothes and finding out if her nipples tightened half as much in response to a man’s caressing hands as they did in response to cold rain. None of the reasons for keeping his hands in his pockets sounded as good in the sleepy, intimate twilight beneath the blankets as they had in the full light of wakefulness.
Slow down, soldier, Caleb advised himselfsavagely. Shemay be married. And even if she’s not, she’s a woman alone in a mighty empty land. I’m not going to have her saying that 1 took advantage of her. If she wants me, she’ll have to look me in the eye and say so in plain English.
Before his body could overrule his brain, Caleb rolled out of the inviting, rose-scented nest of blankets. Willow murmured sleepily and rolled over, seeking the warmth that had been so close a moment before.
«Wake up,» Caleb said as he stamped into his boots. «This isn’t a fancy hotel. You want breakfast, you’ll have to stir your hind end for it.»
Hazel eyes opened and watched him from beneath long, thick lashes. She yawned, curling her tongue like a kitten, then sighed. Dense amber lashes fluttered down once more.
«I mean it, southern lady. When I get back from looking around, there better be a fire laid and fresh water in the pot. Your stud could use a grooming. If you don’t have a currycomb in your fat carpetbag, you’ll find one in my saddlebag.»
«Good morning to you, too.»
Willow waited until Caleb stalked out of sight before she threw off the blankets, pulled on her boots, and
