The pressure in his chest tightened. This woman. His wife. Greta. Was he falling in love with her?
The very thought brought him to a halt, and he broke the kiss. Her soft gasps brushed his lips, the warmth, the sweetness, the pleasure overwhelming him but also settling fear deep into his bones and digging up all the doubts that had been lingering.
What if he couldn’t be the kind of husband she needed and he ended up letting her down? What if his attempt at ranching didn’t work out? What if he had to move on again?
Chapter 17
Greta hadn’t been ready for their kiss to end and wanted to press into Wyatt, showing him he didn’t have to stop, that he could go on kissing her for as long as he wanted.
Her cheeks heated at the prospect. She had a feeling such kissing would lead to more. Much more. And was she really ready for that?
Of course, not now. Not with Astrid here.
But surely there was no question she cared for him. She’d been able to feel it swelling within her over the past few days of his absence. She’d missed him more than she could explain—even to herself. And now that he was here, she didn’t want him to leave.
Next to her, Astrid coughed—just lightly—but enough for Greta to know her sister would soon be fully awake.
As if realizing the same, Wyatt started to back away. Before he could get too far, she gripped a fistful of his shirt and tugged him closer. With the momentum, she pressed forward and lifted into him, letting her mouth touch his.
At her offering, he faltered. Had she been too rash in seeking out another kiss? She started to back away, but he released a soft groan and let his lips fuse with hers, moving against her hungrily and without restraint.
The passion stirred a hunger inside her as well as a realization that this intimacy with her husband wasn’t merely a duty she had to endure. She longed to be with Wyatt, wanted to be closer, desired him.
At a giggling from Astrid beside her, Greta toppled from a world of bliss back to reality. She wrenched away from Wyatt, trying to put as much distance and dignity between them as possible, especially when Astrid propped on her elbow and stared up at them.
“It’s okay,” Astrid remarked happily. “You don’t have to stop on account of me.”
Wyatt shot up from the edge of the bed, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck and clearing his throat.
Greta’s face burned, and she had the urge to step outside and cool off. She opted for pressing her hands against her cheeks.
“If you keep kissing,” Astrid continued, “maybe we’ll have two babies instead of one.”
“Astrid,” Greta reprimanded. “Polite young ladies don’t talk about such things.”
“I’m not polite. I’m a rancher.”
Through the dim lighting, she could see Wyatt’s lips quirk into a half smile as they usually did at Astrid’s bold statements. The comments only served to remind Greta of the uncomfortable predicament she and Wyatt had gotten themselves into with the false pregnancy news. She still hadn’t figured out how to graciously unravel the misunderstanding.
At a soft whine from a box on the floor, Astrid sat up. “What’s that?”
“Got something for you.” Wyatt stepped out of the room and returned a moment later with a lantern. After hooking it on a nail in the rafter, he bent over the crate and picked up a furry bundle.
“A kitten?” Astrid’s voice rose with excitement.
“Nope. Couldn’t find any kittens.” Wyatt approached the bed, petting the creature in his arms. “But I did find this little fella.”
He lowered the bundle into Astrid’s lap, and a black-and-white puppy stared up at her with innocent and curious black eyes, his tiny nose sniffing the air, as if trying to discover his whereabouts and who Astrid was.
“Oh my.” Astrid’s eyes widened.
“He’s adorable.” Greta stroked the puppy’s head and earned a lick.
Astrid followed Greta’s example, and the puppy licked her too. “I think he likes us.”
“I’m sure he’ll love you.” Wyatt reached down and scratched the dog’s back.
“I hope so.” Astrid did the same. “I know I’ll love him.”
Wyatt smiled, and his gaze flitted up to Greta’s as if he wanted to share the precious moment with her. Her heart swelled with a sense of contentment and joy she’d never known before.
“What’s his name?” Astrid asked.
“He ain’t got one yet.” Wyatt straightened and crossed his arms, which emphasized his muscles and the broadness of his chest.
“He needs to have a name.” Astrid grew braver and scratched at the puppy’s neck.
“Then you oughta pick one. A name fit for a mighty fine cow dog.”
“He’s a cow dog?”
“Yep. He’ll help us with herding and chasing cattle down and keeping ’em from wandering off.”
The puppy stood on wobbly legs, his ears perking and his snout lifting. Astrid touched the puppy’s nose and earned another lick. “Won’t he get hurt by the cattle?”
“Nope, he’ll be faster than greased lightning.”
“Good.”
The pup wagged his tail and watched Astrid expectantly, as though ready for her to give him a name, but he was more likely waiting for her to feed him.
For a few seconds she stroked the pup, and Greta’s heart ached at how thin and pale Astrid was getting. Though Greta tried to ply her sister with food, nothing appealed to the girl. Her appetite was gone, and she was losing weight at a frightening pace.
Greta had wanted so badly for the Colorado air to provide the cure for the consumption. But after the past months of mountain living and an only worsening condition, she finally had to accept that the climate wasn’t helping Astrid. The move had been useless.
“What if I call him Chase?” Astrid asked.
“Chase. Sounds about right.” Wyatt scratched the pup and was rewarded with a happy yip.
Astrid laughed. “I think he likes it.”
The puppy yipped again, earning more of Astrid’s laughter, ending in a fit of coughing that left her breathless.
As Astrid lay back, weak and pale, Greta smoothed her sister’s hair off her face and pressed a cool rag on her forehead. Astrid pushed Greta’s hand away and struggled to sit back up.
“Don’t overdo it.”
Clearly sensing her worry, Wyatt scooped up the pup. “I’ll take Chase out to do his business and let him run around.”
Greta smiled her thanks, but Astrid protested. “No. Please don’t take him from me.”
“Don’t you worry none.” Wyatt repositioned the squirming pup. “He’ll get tuckered out and be ready for some shut-eye in no time.”
While Wyatt was gone with the new puppy, Greta tried to feed Astrid a little supper and made her drink some tea. But Astrid was distracted and wouldn’t rest until the puppy was back on the bed snuggled up against her. When the two were asleep, Greta crept from the room, hoping to see Wyatt one last time before he retired to the barn.
Her heartbeat sped at the sight of him sitting at the table, whittling with his pocketknife. At her appearance, he looked up at her and let his knife grow idle. For the first time since he’d returned, she let herself get a good look at him.