Dalton, Tymber - Hernando Heat (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (7 page)

She looked around the kitchen and realized she already thought of it as “hers.” That’s when the full impact of her loss struck her with heavy clarity. She enjoyed her work, but she missed having a home, not just a place to lay her weary bones at the end of each lonely day. It wasn’t until both men crowded close, concern on their faces, that she discovered she was crying.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked. “Did we say something to upset you?”

She wiped her face with the dish towel and shook her head. “I’m sorry. No, it’s not you two. You’ve been wonderful.”

“Then what is it, Katie? What’s the matter?”

She forced a smile. “I’m just being a silly woman, that’s all. Missing what can’t be anymore. Just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be ready to go.” She hurried to her room and mentally chided herself for her weakness, for letting her emotions get the better of her in front of the men. They were good, kind men who didn’t need to be saddled with her burdens.

* * * *

Mason watched her return to her room. The sorrow on her face worried him. “Do you think she’s okay?” he asked Joe.

“Give her some time to adjust. She’s been through a lot. Widowed, attacked, upended again, and now in fear of her in-laws. It’s to be expected.”

Mason watched as Joe headed out the back door to go check on things at the barn.

What’s up with him?
he wondered. His cousin suddenly seemed sad, too. Mason left through the front door to make sure his horse was tied to the buggy. He would make arrangements with the livery stable in town to take care of the buggy horse every day, so Katie wouldn’t have to ride and he could have his own horse to make rounds.

When she appeared on the front porch a few minutes later, her bonnet neatly tied and her shotgun ready, his breath caught. She was a truly fetching woman. He could easily picture spending his life with her. He hurried over and offered his arm to escort her to the buggy.

“I appreciate you doing this, Mason, but I can drive a buggy. Truth be told, I can hitch a team and work a plow, too. I’m not a fragile woman.”

“Katie, as long as Joe or I have anything to say about it, you won’t have to do that. We made you a deal, and we’ll stick to it.”

She tried to argue with him, but he shushed her. “If you think I’m going to let you go to town by yourself this soon after someone tried to attack you, think again.”

That finally pulled a sweet smile from her. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

He felt his cock stiffen in his trousers as he helped her up into the buggy. “Not nearly as much as it means to me and Joe.”

* * * *

Over the next two weeks, life settled into a comfortable routine. Joe took turns with Mason to ferry her into town despite her repeated protests that she could take the buggy herself. She didn’t miss their wary alertness on the ride into town, or that the only time Joe wore a pistol was when he drove her.

She felt no pressure from Mason, although he didn’t hide his feelings from her. She enjoyed his playful, teasing ways, a lightness of mood she knew he reserved only for her.

With Joe, she enjoyed their quiet talks about life, love, and loss. She suspected she was the first person he’d ever truly opened up to about his grief.

She also recognized Joe had feelings for her that she suspected he’d never admit due to Mason’s prior claim on her. Unfortunately, she knew that there was no way she could ever force herself to choose between the two handsome men.

She loved both of them.

Every night she stared at Paul’s picture as she silently talked to him, her heart breaking. A man she loved beyond her reach. Two men who obviously cared for her and she couldn’t dare admit it to either one for fear of it destroying their bond.

Every morning she wound Paul’s mantle clock and said a silent prayer that an answer would come and take the choice from her without hurting anyone.

Chapter Six

Rainy season finally arrived. The next afternoon, Mason made it to her shop’s front porch scant seconds before the threatening sky opened up, releasing a torrent of fat raindrops punctuated by frequent lightning and rumbling thunder.

He smiled as he stepped through the shop door and removed his hat. “Looks like we’ll be here for a while,” he softly said.

She nervously smiled. “Yes.” The afternoon summer storms arrived like clockwork and would last for nearly an hour before petering off, leaving behind steamy, soggy roads.

Meaning she’d be stuck there, with him, making small talk and trying to ignore the blatant attraction between them.

Stuck wasn’t the right word. But after living with the cousins for nearly three weeks, it was obvious to her how close they were, and how attracted both men were to her. Coming between them was not an acceptable option in her mind, no matter how much she found herself in love with them…and no matter how many sexy, lustful dreams the men inspired in her. Several more times she’d dreamed about them just to awaken and find her own hand between her legs.

He glanced through the shop’s windows, pushed the door shut behind him, and shot the bolt. Then he flipped her sign from open to closed and pulled the curtains shut. He walked toward her, caught her hand, and led her through the curtained doorway to the back room where her unused bed lay.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, I’m about to burst,” he rumbled as he pulled her into his arms and lowered his lips to hers.

A soft gasp escaped her as her arms encircled his neck. Who was she kidding? His body felt good against hers, his hungry mouth lighting fires inside her even the hardest Florida rainstorm could never extinguish.

He finally broke their kiss, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m sorry if you hate me for that, Katie, but—” She kissed him again, shutting him up.

His hard cock pressed through his trousers, enticing, tempting, making long-untouched places within her ache for his body. He tasted good, his body firm and warm and smelling of horse and leather and the Hernando county pine woods he rode through. Afternoon stubble on his cheeks rubbed against her flesh in a scratchy, pleasant way, just the way it had in her dreams.

Mason’s hands roamed over her back, rubbing her skin through her cotton dress, holding her tightly against him. Finally, he lifted his head again, his breath coming hard and fast. “You feel so good, Katie,” he hoarsely whispered. “So good I can’t help myself from wanting you.”

She prepared to melt against him again when he gently released her and stepped back, leaving her startled and swaying on her feet. “What? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Not like this. I won’t sully your reputation.” His pants stood out in front of him like a small tent. “I swear, Katie, I’m gonna court you right and proper so no one can say anything foul about you.” He took another step back as she stepped forward.

“What if I don’t care about my reputation?” Right then, as frenzied as she felt, she wouldn’t care if the townsfolk said she ran naked down the middle of Main Street if he’d scratch her itch.

He smiled. “But I do. You’re a good woman, and I don’t want anyone sullying your reputation.” He took a deep breath and sat in the chair at her small table, then reached a hand out to her.

Katie took his hand and let him pull her into his lap, where his brown eyes stared into hers. “You’re beautiful, Katie,” he whispered, his hand stroking her cheek. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I want to do right by you no matter how much I feel like I could…” He blushed. “I feel like I could throw you down on that bed and take you right now.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He looked stunned before he laughed, long and hard. “You don’t make it easy to be a good man.”

“You
are
a good man, Mase.” She was going to try to entice him into another soul-wrenching kiss when a sharp crack of thunder sounded like it split the sky directly over her shop. She jumped, startled, as he held her tight and laughed.

“Please, don’t tempt me harder than you already do,” he softly said. “Let me do this right.”

She sensed how important this was to him. Heck, she’d already had a courtship and a marriage…and then a mournful pang touched her soul.

Paul
.

She nodded. “All right.” She settled in his arms, letting him hold her as they listened to the storm wind down outside so they could head home.

* * * *

The next day, Mason stopped by the shop before lunch. His horse was loaded down with gear like he’d be traveling. She was alone in the shop, and he didn’t bother glancing around before he kissed her.

“I have to go away for a few days,” he announced.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Sheriff needs me to lead a posse, up toward Ocala. A guy over from Silver Lake killed a man, and we think he headed up that way. He’s got family up there.”

A tendril of fear rolled through her. “You be careful.”

He smiled, but it looked sad and melancholy, as if something else weighed down his soul. “I will. I promise. On my way out, I’ll stop by the sawmill and tell Joe. He’ll come pick you up tonight.”

“I am capable of driving a buggy. I told you that.” Irritation mixed with love ran through her. She’d been taking care of herself for a while now, but it was nice to have someone worried about her and trying to take care of her.

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I wouldn’t be alone. I have my shotgun.” She smiled.

“Let Joe come get you,” he firmly said. He kissed her again before putting his hat back on. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“How long?”

He shook his head. “Don’t know.” She couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was sad about something, that maybe this was more of a good-bye than he let on. “Hopefully no more than a week, or I’m gonna be right sore with the sheriff. He would’ve sent Carl, except Carl’s down with a bum ankle. He can’t get himself up in a saddle.” He mounted his horse then offered her a sad-looking smile as he tipped his hat to her.

She watched him ride off, knowing in her heart she was lost.

She loved him.

Katie tried to work, but by three thirty, with little to do and no customers, she decided to try to beat the afternoon rainstorm home. She grabbed her shotgun, gathered her things, locked the shop, and walked the three blocks to the livery stables.

Kendall Wentworth was surprised to see her instead of Joe, but he quickly readied the buggy and horse for her. In ten minutes she was on her way out of town, heading for home.

As the afternoon clouds grew so dark and angry they looked nearly purple, the winds picked up, growing cool as the storm threatened. She snapped the reins, urging the horse faster. It wouldn’t kill her to get wet, but it wouldn’t be very pleasant. The scent of impending rain filled the air as the temperature dropped.

Then she happened to glance behind her. In the distance, she spotted a lone rider, heading east from Brooksville and gaining on her fast, a cloud of wind-swept dust kicking up behind him indicating his speed.

With her heart now racing, she snapped the reins again, wishing she had a buggy whip. The horse responded. Before long she was totally focused on keeping the buggy upright and her place on the seat as the buggy bounced along on the rough washboard clay road. That’s when the sky opened.

The wind roared around her, from the storm and the speed of the horse. She didn’t dare glance behind her and prayed they didn’t hit a rut wrong and spill. She let out a terrified cry as she heard a man screaming her name behind her. Terrorizing thoughts filled her soul as she prayed the rider’s horse didn’t outrun her normally slow and gentle steed. It was only as the rider finally pulled alongside she realized it was Joe, looking angry and as sopping wet as she was.

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