“I’m glad. Everyone’s got solid walls and a tight roof against the winter.” Trace chuckled for a moment.
“So much work and done so fast and with such a good spirit.” Deb rode for the barn, Trace right on her heels.
“You go on in, Deb. I’ll put your horse up.”
“As if I’m one speck more weary than you.”
Trace figured it to be well past midnight. He had no pocket watch, and he could’ve judged decent by the moon, only the night was overcast, with snow coming down and whipping wind in his face and down the back of his neck.
Stripping leather off his horse, he found fresh hay already pitched into Black’s manger. His men had planned for him. So he went to help Deb and met her emerging from her horse’s stall.
“I got the saddle and bridle off.” She sounded prouder than a mama cougar dragging supper home for her cubs.
Trace went in quick to make sure it was all done, then came right back out, leaving her mare happily munching hay. “We made it home.” He was so tired, his mind wasn’t thinking much past the present moment. He just walked right up to his wife and pulled her into a hug.
With a mild huff of amusement, Deb said, “It’s so nice to know a warm bed is waiting for us.”
The way she said it gave him a little more energy to get on with settling in for the night. He rested one palm gently on her face and, touching irresistibly silky skin, leaned down to kiss her. “You are the finest kind of woman, Deb. I am so blessed to have you for my wife.”
Her light blue eyes, washed gray in the darkness, shimmered. She looked at him so close he felt like she was peering right into his soul.
“I’d have to say the same about you, Trace. The finest man I’ve ever known.” She gave him her warmest smile. “Let’s go in. Gwen will be in a room with both youngsters, so we can go right to bed.”
Deb was turning to walk out of the barn when Trace caught her arm. He had a strange expression on his face. Worry maybe? Nervousness? Or he might just be overly tired.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Do you think . . . that is, will Gwen . . . should we—?” He cleared his throat. “I should probably sleep in the bunkhouse this first night.”
The jolt in her heart surprised her. “You don’t want to sleep with me?”
Trace drew her into his arms again and kissed her. When he eased back this time, he said, “I can hardly stand the thought of being away from you. Last night, just having someone to hold . . . I have always been a lonely man, Deb. Less so in recent years, but having you for my wife has made me realize just how much I’ve missed in not knowing the presence of a woman in my life. Being close to you, I feel like a hole in my heart is healing, a hole I didn’t even know was there.”
“I don’t want to be away from you either, Trace. I think it will do no harm for you to stay with me. We’ll make sure and explain things to Gwen right away. I’m usually up early with the children and see her for a bit. I’ll have time then to keep her from being overly surprised. Come on in with me.”
“I would like that very much.” He took her hand, not even trying to keep the smile off his face, and walked with her toward the house. The night full of wind and snow, his lips still warm from their kiss, his heart full to overflowing.
She gave him a sideways glance and a quick smile.
He was so dazed about getting to join her, he only noticed Wolf when the dog caught him around the pant leg. Almost like Wolf was trying to guide him to the correct place to sleep.
Well, Wolf didn’t know what was what.
Trace followed Deb right into the house. Wolf disappeared into the night before Trace could try to coax him inside. For the first time ever, Trace was warm enough he could almost understand how the critter felt about sleeping on a snowdrift.
Deb considered waking Gwen to tell her the big news. But once in the warm cabin, she was so tired and so deeply chilled, the thought of a celebration was overwhelming.
And there probably would be a celebration. Gwen would be excited for her older sister. There might be some jumping and squealing and giggling—not just by Gwen, either. And that might wake the children up.
And then . . . well, all in all, Deb decided it was best just to sneak in and go to sleep and put all that off until morning. So she didn’t make a sound when she led Trace to the bedroom.
Trace.
Her husband.
Straight to the bedroom!
God bless us all, how drastically things have changed.
A glance inside told her the room was empty. Deb had been sharing with Ronnie. But she’d expected Gwen to take the little guy with her to the bedroom she shared with Maddie Sue while Deb was gone.
The young’uns had slept with them since the wagon train had set out. Between the limited space and the cold in Trace’s old cabin, it’d seemed wise to continue the arrangement.
This cabin was very well built. Utah had laid split-log floors in the room while she was away. Not a single one of them squeaked, but that might be because Deb was floating a few inches off the floor.
She was tired enough and cold enough and feeling blessed enough that she expected to fall asleep fast and deep in her husband’s arms.
She was right about the deep part, but wrong about fast. Trace had other ideas.
Gwen’s scream sent Trace stumbling backward into the bedroom. Looking for protection, he glanced back to see Deb spring up from the covers, get twisted in them, fall
