He remained where he was, letting her come to him, his expression revealing nothing. Only his eyes showed emotion as she stopped within a pace of him, close enough to speak but not to touch.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, making a show of conversation.
“I got talked into buying a ticket to support the new school, so I thought I might as well use it. At least the food looks good.” He bent slightly closer, lowering his voice. “Damn it, Kristin, I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.”
“I feel the same,” she whispered. “But Webb could do you a lot of damage if he thought you’d stolen his woman—even though that wouldn’t be true. I know him. He can be generous, but he can also be vindictive. Trust me, you don’t want him as an enemy.”
“I’m almost past caring about that. Is he here?”
“I haven’t seen him. But even if he were to show up and see us, we’re only talking.”
“Talking isn’t what I’ve had on my mind, lady.”
“You’re not helping.” She gave him a smile and a slight shake of her head. “I’d invite you to share lunch with my family, but Blake just declared that he doesn’t trust any man with Calder blood.”
“I understand.” He exhaled. “But it’s so damned childish, this whole blood feud. You and I have been through a real war, Kristin. We know what it’s like to face a real enemy. This . . .” He shook his head. “It’s like some kind of game with two teams.”
“I hate to tell you this,” Kristin said. “But if water gets much scarcer this summer, it won’t be a game anymore. It’ll be a real war. Tempers will be hair-trigger; and if anybody gets hurt—or killed, God forbid—things will get serious fast. It’s happened before. It could happen again. And it’s not just over water. An accident, a legal dispute, or even a fight over a woman—anything can touch off violence, like a spark to tinder.”
“And that’s why you’re worried about Webb?”
“Exactly.”
“You know I’m not afraid of him. I’m only keeping my distance for your sake.”
“Maybe you should be more worried about yourself. Webb wouldn’t just challenge you to a fistfight. That’s not his style. He’s got hired men who would burn your ranch, kill your stock, and do whatever else he ordered.”
Logan glanced around as if to see whether anyone might be listening. Then he leaned closer. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Come with me. Not for long. Just a few minutes to be by ourselves. My horse is tied behind the hardware store.”
Kristin understood the risk involved in what he was asking. But she needed a moment in his arms—needed it too much to be cautious. “Go on,” she said. “If I can get away, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
She turned to check the crowd as he walked off. There was no sign of Webb. Blake and his family, including Joseph, were picnicking on the blanket they’d brought. They’d be expecting her, but they wouldn’t be concerned if she didn’t join them. No one else appeared to be paying her any attention. Taking her time, she slipped away, walked back down the street, and around the far side of the hardware store.
Logan was waiting with his buckskin horse. He mounted and swung her up behind the cantle with her skirt bunched over her knees. Taking a back road through the fields, they emerged onto open ground, where Logan nudged the horse to an easy lope.
With her arms wound tight around him, Kristin laid her head against his back. As she listened to the beating of his heart, she remembered the last time they’d ridden double, when he was weak from blood loss, and she had to hold him on the horse. So many things had happened since then—not the least of them falling in love with him.
He stopped the horse in a spot she recognized, where cottonwoods and willows grew around a seeping spring. The place was on the border of the Dollarhide Ranch—but he would know that. After easing her off the back of the horse, he dismounted and took her in his arms. His kiss was long and slow and deep, his tongue tasting her, stroking the sensitive tissues inside her mouth. Waves of molten desire poured through her, pulsing deep in her body. Through layers of clothing, his arousal pressed hard against her hip. But they both knew that nothing was going to happen here, not today.
“The next time we make love, I want it to be where we can take our time,” he murmured between kisses. “I want to memorize every curve and hollow of your body, to love every part of you. But I don’t know how long I can stand this waiting. Webb needs to know. We need to tell him before he figures things out for himself.”
“Not yet. I need to make a clean break with him—and it will go easier if it’s his idea. Trust me, I know him. My family knows him. This could come back on all of us, not just you and me.”
He sighed and released her. “Is there a chance he could hurt you?”
“I’ve never known him to hurt a woman. Not physically, at least. But he could damage you or take his anger out on my family.”
“You make him sound like a madman.”
“He’s not. But he’s a very proud man, accustomed to having his way. Nobody defies Webb Calder and gets away with it.”
“We’re defying him now. He just doesn’t know it.” He pulled her close in a quick, hard hug. “Come on. It’s time you were getting back to your family. I’ll let you off somewhere safe.”
“You’re not going back to eat, at least?”
“Better for me, and safer for you if I don’t make an appearance. Don’t worry, I already got what I came for.”
They rode back in silence, both of them aware that they couldn’t risk more time together. Not until she made things right with Webb.
He let her off near her house. From there she could walk back to the celebration without anyone questioning where she’d been. Kristin watched him ride away, feeling his frustration as she felt her own. This tangled mess was hers to resolve. She had to find a way.
* * *
The sun was low in the sky when the musicians from Miles City—a fiddler, a guitarist, and a bass player—took their places on the bandstand and began warming up. Years ago, when the immigrants had put on the celebration, accordion players from the Old World had played mostly polkas and waltzes. When the band on stage broke into a lively foxtrot, the younger couples flooded onto the dance floor.
Blake’s family had gone home. But Kristin had stayed in the hope of talking to Mason. So far, he hadn’t shown up. But the hour was early yet. He might be planning to come later and make an entrance. That would be like him—or at least like the Mason she remembered.
Kristin wasn’t the only one watching for Mason. Gerda had no end of partners, but even when she was on the dance floor, her gaze searched the crowd, looking for the one face she wanted to see.
As the twilight deepened, electric lights, strung above the dance floor, twinkled on, lending a magical effect to the darkness. Faces glowed. Skirts and petticoats swirled to the music. Even the shadows seemed to dance.
The men, mostly cowhands, outnumbered the women at least two to one, so no willing female lacked for partners. When a homely young cowboy asked Kristin to dance, she gave him her hand and let him whirl her around the dance floor. He was polite and shy and surprisingly light on his feet. When he returned her to her place, she rewarded him with a genuine smile. There was still no sign of Mason. Maybe he wasn’t coming after all.