Shifting Calder Wind (Calder Saga 7)

In that moment Jessy understood the issue wasn’t one of loyalty, but one of life and living. Love always wore many faces in a person’s life. She would never know another Ty Calder, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t room in her life for a man who called himself Laredo Smith.

She gave him an answer that needed no words, pushing his hat off and pulling his head down, giving herself to his kiss—and to him—without reservation. His low, inarticulate moan of need said it all as he claimed her lips.

In an act that was never new and never old, they made love in the storm and the rain. Their clothes lay in a sodden heap on the grass. Lightning lit up the sky, reflecting off their wet bodies, one slender, one muscled, giving them a silvery sheen. It was difficult for either of them to tell where the rolling thunder ended and the pounding of their hearts began. The storm within built in intensity, the heat and pressure mounting until they both strained for a release. It came in a shuddering, blinding crash of light.

For a long moment they lay there, washed by the rain, all loose and drained of tension, still caught in the tingling afterglow. Laredo was the first to break the spell, his hand sliding up her cheek to turn her face to him.

“My God, what have I been missing all this time,” he murmured thickly.

Moved by the depth of feeling in his look, Jessy felt suddenly and oddly shy. “Clothes, for starters. And a dry towel.”

He burst out laughing and rolled Jessy onto her back, leaning over her, his wide shoulders shielding her from the rain. “You’re always so damned blunt and practical.”

His laughter made the difference. That calm confidence returned, warmed by new feelings. “One of us needs to be.” The corners of her mouth deepened with an impish smile. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining.”

“So it is.” Laredo combed the wet hair away from her face. “Do you suppose we should get out of it?”

“Probably.” She linked her hands behind his neck and admired again the lean, strong lines of his face.

“This is one of those moments you don’t want to end,” he admitted, “even though you know it must.”

“It’s called life, I guess.” But inwardly she agreed with him.

“This is the first time I can recall hoping that mine would be a long one,” Laredo told her.

“In that case, you’d better start hoping that you don’t catch pneumonia, because you have a long drive ahead of you—in some very wet clothes.” The slickness of his skin made it easy for Jessy to slide out from under him, and Laredo did little to stop her.

He remained on the ground, lying on his side, propped up by an elbow, watching while she scooped up her wet clothes. “And you only have to go inside to get warm and dry.”

She held the wet bundle in front of her, but not out of any sense of modesty. “You could come in for a while,” she suggested with a touch of hesitancy. “I could throw your clothes in the dryer.”

“No, thanks.” He rolled to his feet and gathered up his jeans.

Jessy watched the struggle he had to pull them up. “Are you sure? It won’t take long to dry them.”

“I’m positive. If I went in there, I might not come out.” Laredo dragged his shirt on, but didn’t bother to button it. “Besides, it’s late, and Chase will be wondering where I am.” Barefoot with boots in hand, he moved to her side. “I’ll walk you to the door, though.”

Jessy couldn’t help smiling. “My, but that sounds old-fashioned.”

“That’s the kind of feeling I have.”

When he paused at the bottom of the steps, she turned to face him, still holding her clothes. A breath later, his mouth moved onto hers, claiming it with an evocative tenderness that had more power in it than passion could possess. Jessy felt it course through her, filling all the empty places with something warm and enduring.

Words seemed unnecessary. She went inside without uttering a single one, conscious of Laredo watching every step she took.

Up at daybreak, Laredo whistled softly while he shaved. He caught himself and smiled, certain he had never been so damned happy in his life.

It was as if the world had taken on a fresh flavor. Everything seemed to taste better to him, from coffee to the plate of bacon and eggs Hattie set before him. He lingered over a final cup long enough to fill Chase in on the previous day’s happenings—all except the way it ended.

As serious as those subjects were, it didn’t take the slight bounce from his step when he walked outside. He paused, filling his lungs with a deep draught of invigorating rain-washed air. It was a crystal-clear morning that gave a sharp definition to the sprawling landscape before him. Smiling again, Lared headed for his truck, convinced he had never felt this eager for a new day to begin. There was only one reason for it, and her name was Jessy.

When he turned onto the dirt ranch road, he unconsciously started whistling again. A shadow drifted across the road in front of him. Leaning over the steering wheel, he peered skyward. His searching gaze finally located the buzzard floating on a morning thermal. An instant later, he noticed a second one, then a third and a fourth, all on a descending spiral, intent on something west of the road. Which likely meant they had spotted breakfast.

Laredo stopped whistling and slowed the truck, telling himself it could be anything from a dead rabbit or pronghorn to a steer. But with O’Rourke missing, he knew he needed to check it out. He parked the truck on the shoulder and headed off on foot.

In short order, he was back, piling into the pickup and making a sharp U-turn. He gave the horn two long blasts and drove back to the line shack.

Chase was outside waiting for him when he arrived. “What’s up?”