Chapter 7
Clay was gone when she woke up. Daisy blinked against the dim light filtering into the small tack room and stretched out her limbs.
The night before came back in a flash, and she smiled.
Clay had kissed her. Or maybe she’d kissed him.
She wasn’t sure now that she thought about it, but either way, she’d finally been given a proper kiss.
And it was everything she had dreamed it would be.
She grinned and buried her head under the blankets in hopes he didn’t walk in and see her looking like a crazy person grinning at nothing. A mere thought brought the memory back, and she licked her lips to see if she could still taste him on them.
She sighed. What did it mean? It wasn’t as if Clay had declared his undying love or anything. It was just a kiss, but as it was her first, it meant something to her. Had it been as world-shattering to him?
The memory of him pulling away told her it probably hadn’t been.
Although if she were honest, she knew they couldn’t have kissed all night, but it had warmed her body more than his closeness and the blankets had.
She’d gone to sleep surrounded by his scent, his arms tight around her waist, and she’d felt—loved.
Cherished. Things she’d always wanted but doubted she’d ever get to experience.
The temperature in the barn the night before had been miserably cold, and she knew it wouldn’t get any better.
Although snuggling with Clay under the blankets had been nice, it wasn’t something they could continue to do, even though she wanted to.
Now that snow had fallen, it would do so for months, which meant it would only get colder.
Their body heat wouldn’t be enough to keep them warm.
The snow was a problem. Now that it was falling, did that mean they were trapped here in Butte until spring?
Her rumination was cut short when the blankets over her head were pulled away. If Clay standing over her, and the look on his face, had not alerted her that something was wrong, she would have been annoyed. She sat up, pushing her hair from her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Come on,” he said, waving a hand for her to get up.
He didn’t wait for her, turning on his heel and leaving the tack room.
She hurried to stand, smoothing down her skirts and hair before grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around her shoulders, before heading into the barn.
The air was still; her breath fogged in front of her.
Clay was coming out of one of the horse stalls and motioned for her to follow him when he saw her.
Beside the wide double barn doors was a smaller, normal one. Clay opened it when she reached his side. Her eyes widened. The snow was halfway up the door, and it was still falling. “Are we going to get buried in here?”
He shrugged and turned his head to her. “It’s possible.”
A glance at the sky showed her nothing but gray clouds.
The town was quiet. No one walked the sidewalks.
No buggies or wagons lined the street. It was a ghost town now, with nothing but snow as far as the eye could see.
Clay shut the barn door, then looked back over at the horses.
She did the same. They were all covered in blankets and had been given fresh water and straw. How long had Clay been up?
Nothing more than his glancing down at her lips made her think of the night before, and her face burned hot.
As if he knew what she was thinking, one corner of his mouth twitched, making her blush harder, and lifting her eyes to his own made the dizzying euphoria she’d felt last night come back in an instant.
His gaze lingered on her mouth. What was he thinking?
Did he want to kiss her again? Would he?
If she leaned up on her toes and leaned into him, would he take what she was offering?
She was too shy even to try it and looked away, distracting herself with thoughts of what they were supposed to do all day.
Clay walked around her and grabbed a shovel, and went back to the door.
It took him almost ten minutes to move the snow from the doorway and cut a small path out onto the street.
She followed him out. It was utterly still.
Nothing moved. There were lights on in the houses she could see, but the businesses were all dark.
Even the restaurant they’d been getting food from was dark, the windows void of light.
Clay turned to her and said, “Go back inside.”
“Where are you going?”
He pointed toward the restaurant. “I’m going to see if anyone is there.”
She nodded when she finally understood what he’d said, but didn’t go back inside as he’d told her to do. She watched him head down the street, the accumulated snow reaching his knees. What would they do if the restaurant stayed closed? How would they eat?
She watched him look into the restaurant windows before turning and heading further down the sidewalk. He looked through several storefronts before coming back. He ushered her inside, shutting the door behind them, and with a hand on her lower back, led her across the barn and into the tack room.
As cold as it had been in there the night before, it was much warmer inside the little room than it had been in the main part of the barn.
Their blankets were still on the floor. She picked them up, folding them before setting them on the small table by the wall.
She turned to find Clay sitting on the cot, his head in his hands. Something was wrong.
The thin mattress sank in the middle when she sat beside him. He lifted his head and looked over at her. “What’s wrong?” She asked him again.
“Just wondering how things got so messed up.”
She supposed that to him their situation seemed difficult, but to her, despite the cold and their current circumstances, it was better than the alternative.
She could have been heading across the country alone and unsure of what her future held.
As it was, she was with Clay, the boy her sister tried to convince her was half in love with her, and he’d kissed her.
As awful as things were, she wouldn’t trade this for anything.
Had that kiss changed their relationship?
And if so, what did that mean for them now?
If she didn’t stop looking at him like that, he wasn’t sure he could keep from continuing what they’d started the night before.
He’d woken that morning surrounded by her scent with memories of her lips against his own and the small sounds she'd made as he kissed her, invading his thoughts.
They'd kissed so long, his body had responded, blood rushing to his lower extremities and he'd wanted nothing more than to bury his face against her neck and kiss his way across every inch of her soft skin, tasting her on his tongue while exploring the curves, dips, and hollows she possessed
Climbing from their little pallet bed had been the hardest thing he’d had to do in a while, but the bitter cold that greeted him helped clear his mind and forced the blood rushing to his lower extremities to travel back to his brain where it needed to be.
He’d headed through the barn, grabbing the watering bucket on his way, but stopped dead in his tracks when he opened the door and saw nothing but white.
The snow had fallen with a vengeance and was still coming down.
So here they sat in the small tack room, where it was warmer than out in the main part of the barn, with nothing to do but stare at the walls.
Or see if Daisy tasted as sweet this morning as she had the night before.
Clay ran a hand over his face. He had to stop thinking like this. He wasn’t even sure if she’d enjoyed kissing him. Not being able to see her face underneath all those blankets had made it hard to tell, and it wasn't as if he could ask her.
The way she kissed you back said she’d enjoyed it.
There was that. He glanced over at her. She was staring at the opposite wall, and he wondered what she was thinking.
When she cut her eyes his way, and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink, he thought he knew.
His staring at her made the blush staining her cheeks grow darker.
He wanted to say something, but didn’t know how or what.
Would it make him sound stupid to ask if she’d enjoyed kissing him?
Probably. But curiosity made him clear his throat and run a hand over the back of his neck. “About last night…”
Her cheeks grew darker still, and a tiny smile turned the corner of her lips.
She licked them, his gaze drawn there when she caught her bottom lip with her teeth.
The slight gesture only made him want a repeat of the night before even more.
He thought about leaning toward her enough to see what she’d do, but a loud banging noise brought his head up.
He jumped, startled, and looked at the door, then stood before turning to Daisy.
“I heard something. I’ll be back in a minute. ”
She nodded, and he headed out into the barn.
Nothing looked out of place, but it felt twenty degrees colder.
He walked the aisle, looking into the horse stalls as he did, and nearly jumped out of his skin again when the loud banging interrupted the silence.
It came from the loft. He hurried up the ladder, looking around the space when he was on the landing, and saw what had made the noise a moment later.
One of the window shutters had come loose; the string holding it shut was broken.