«I was afraid it would be infected, but it looks as clean as that brook going through the meadow.»
«Daddy was right about that, too,» Caleb said, yawningagian. «Not much gets infected up here. Something about the thin air, I guess, or the lack of human beings. How much of that stew did you leave for me?»
«About two quarts.»
«I’ll eat slowly so you can cook more.»
She smiled and took his hand, leading him toward the campsite. «I made lots and lots of biscuits.»
In camp, Willow watched from the corner of her eye as Caleb made short work of the stew, biscuits, coffee, and wild greens.
«No trout?» he asked lazily, mopping up the last bit of gravy with the last biscuit.
Willow smiled and shook her head. «They all ran from me.»
«Guess I’ll just have to teach you how to catch them all over again, won’t I?»
Color burned on Willow’s cheeks as she remembered the last time Caleb had told her how to catch trout.
«Don’t worry, honey,» he said, stretching out on the bedroll. «Right now I’m too done in to sneak up on my own shadow.»
Caleb was asleep before he took another breath. Willow waited until he was sleeping too deeply to be disturbed. Then she pulled off his boots, eased hisgunbelt and hunting knife off his hips, and covered him with the thick blankets. She wrapped up thegunbelt and placed it within reach, exactly as he would have done if he hadn’t been too tired.
Willow put the shotgun close to her side of the bed and crawled in next to Caleb. Even though the sun had been gone from the valley floor less than half an hour, it was already chilly. The heat radiating from Caleb was wonderful, luring Willow closer and closer until she sighed and relaxed against his big body. He shifted, drawing her even more tightly against himself, holding her as though he, too, was cold. Smiling, holding him in return, Willow fell asleep with the familiar feel of Caleb’s heartbeat beneath her cheek.
WILLOW awakened on her side, tucked spoon fashion against Caleb, her head on his upper arm, his chest warming her back, her bottom snug in the cradle of his thighs…and one of her breasts cupped in his right hand, which had slid between buckskin and flannel to seek the silky warmth beneath.
When Willow realized the intimacy of Caleb’s touch, her heart turned over. She froze, caught between the knowledge that she should retreat and the pleasure of lying so close with Caleb while sunshine poured into the tiny valley, filling it to overflowing with golden light.
After a few minutes, Willow’s heartbeat settled down, but not the sensations that glittered over her without warning, shortening her breathing and tightening the breast within Caleb’s grasp until the hard nipple nuzzled against the center of his broad palm. An odd ache claimed her, a desire to arch against his palm like a cat being stroked. The feeling was so strong and so unexpected that she held her breath, wondering what was wrong with her. She tried to ease free of his hand withoutdistrubing him, but he was too deeply tangled in her clothes.
Half awakened by Willow’s cautions retreat, Caleb made a low, sleepy sound and gathered her more closely against himself. His free hand moved, seeking the warmth and silk of her body but settling for the soft weight of her other breast muffled beneath layers of clothes.
Willow’s breath wedged firmly in her throat as she felt herself cupped and cuddled through clothing until that breast, too, tightened in an aching rush. She shivered, fighting the desire to twist slowly against Caleb’s hands, increasing the pressure of his touch on her breasts.
I must be losing mymind, Willowthought, shivering.
Breathing shallowly, not wanting to move for fear of waking Caleb and embarrassing both of them, Willow lay stiffly and waited for the normal movements Caleb made while asleep to remove her from the unintentional, sensual cage of his embrace.
Release didn’t come. Tension did. Unable to bear it any longer, Willow eased the blanket off her body as the first step toward freeing herself. But removing the blanket was a mistake. The sight of one of Caleb’s big hands on her breast and the other hand buried deep between rawhide laces and through a gap in her flannel top made Willow forget to breathe. Frantically she closed her eyes. After the first rush of embarrassment passed, she opened her eyes again.
Nothing had changed. The contrast between his tan hand and the whiteness of her own skin was as vivid as before. The difference between the lean strength of his fingers and the soft fullness of her breast was still…
Exciting.
Iamlosingmy mind.
Willow told herself she should either get out of bed or pull the blanket up once more and spare herself the sight of Caleb’s hand tangled so intimately in her clothes. She did neither. She simply lay motionless except for the ripples of sensation washing through her with each breath, each unintentional stirring of her breasts against Caleb’s hands.
A bird called sweet melodies from the rocks and was answered from the far side of the meadow. A breeze brushed through tall grass, making a sound like spirits breathing. Sunlight caressed the land as surely as Willow was being caressed with every breath she took. Caleb shifted again, drawing her even closer, cupping his hand more deeply around her naked breast beneath her clothes.
Air came from Willow’s lungs in a rush. Very carefully, she eased Caleb’s right hand from her chest to her buckskin-clad hip. Then she slid her own hand inside her bodice in an attempt to remove Caleb’s other hand without awakening him. There simply wasn’t enough room for her hand as well as his inside the closely fitting buckskin.
Holding her breath, she picked the buckskin laces free of their holes and unfastened the flannel top beneath until it was completely open. The buckskin lacings, however, opened only to her ribs, which left her little maneuvering room. It would have to be enough.
Slowly, Willow slid her fingers over Caleb’s hand and tugged ever so gently. His hand moved against her naked breast, sending his hard palm rubbing over her nipple. A burst of heat licked through her, making her breath catch in a tiny moan. Her back arched in sensual reflex, repeating the caress, caressing his hand in turn. Biting her lower lip, Willow pulled gently at Caleb’s hand again, trying to free herself without awakening him. He muttered sleepily and tightened his grip on her once again, trapping her taut nipple between his fingers.
The small, ragged sound Willow made brought Caleb fully awake. He felt the lithe curve of her bodysnugged against his own, the fullness of her hip beneath one of his hands and the naked silk of her breast nestled in his other. Smiling, he flexed both hands, enjoying the very feminine feel of Willow’s body.
«Caleb?» Willow asked fearfully, a bare thread of sound. «You — you aren’t awake, are you?»
«I’m getting there.»
The heat of her blush was so violent he felt it suffuse her breasts.
«I didn’t mean to awaken you,» she whispered. «I–I was just trying to — to move your hand.»
«This one?» Caleb asked, spreading his hand over her buttock and squeezing gently, deeply.
Willow’s breath broke. «No — I mean, yes, but mostly the other one.»
«The other one?» Caleb smiled into her hair. «Where is it? I can’t see.»
«I can, and that’s the problem.» Willow heard her own words and wanted to groan.
«You can, huh? So tell me where it is.»
«Caleb Black, you know very well where your hand is!»
«How could I? It’s asleep,» he lied, smiling and searching through Willow’s hair for the sensitive nape of her neck. «So I can’t move it until I know where it is. Tell me, honey.»
«On my — on my —» Her voice broke.
«Shoulder?» Caleb offered.
She shook her head.
Willow’s hair slid aside, revealing her nape. His mouth settled over it, kissing gently, nibbling softly. He felt every bit of the sensual shivering that ran through her body. An answering heat flowed through him. He had never held a woman who was so responsive to his least caress.
«Is my hand on your ribs?» Caleb asked deeply, running his teeth over Willow’s nape again, feeling her shiver, wanting to groan with the sweet agony of his own need.
«N-not my ribs,» she whispered, barely able to think.
«Your waist?»
