Chapter 22
“It’s not the blackleg,” Thatcher said as he finished examining the steer.
He hadn’t expected to be called to do any examining—not until Beckett was able to counter the rumors with the truth. But after Weston and his small family had ridden away from High Country Ranch, Maverick Oakley had asked Thatcher to stay and take a look at one of the sick steers.
He’d been more thrilled than he would admit that Maverick had still trusted him enough to ask for his help.
“Appears to be a simple infection. That’s all.” Thatcher wiped his hand on the towel Amelia was holding for him. She was as attentive and helpful as always.
Outside the isolated stall in a far corner of the barn, Maverick leaned casually against the stall gate. “Relieved to hear it.”
The wiry cowboy with his dark hair and dark good looks had apparently charmed many a woman before he’d married his childhood sweetheart.
His wife, Hazel, was a talented broodmare manager, and Thatcher had met her on a previous visit out to the ranch.
Earlier, she’d stepped out of the mare barn to say goodbye to Weston and Serena and their children, and it was more than clear she was expecting a baby.
She looked to be as far along as Amelia. He hoped the two women would be able to become friends and find encouragement in their motherhood journey together, especially since it looked like he might not be an outcast in the community after all.
It would still take some time before people would start calling on him again for his services, but he was grateful Maverick had given him the chance to prove himself again.
“I can come out this week and vaccinate your steers for blackleg.” Thatcher gave the steer a pat on its hindquarter. “Doing so might put your mind at ease.”
“Yep, that’s what I’m thinking.” Maverick had his arms crossed and didn’t seem all that worried about the disease. “Heard the vaccine saved Sterling’s herd, so I’d be obliged.”
“You would be doing me a favor by letting me treat the steers.”
“A favor? How so?”
“Nobody trusts me right now.” Maybe he shouldn’t be so open. But that’s just who he was. “So you giving me the job will hopefully help restore confidence in my abilities.”
Maverick tipped up the brim of his hat, revealing surprised eyes. “You’re not talking about Beckett’s whining about his gelding having to be put down, are you?”
“Yes, guess I am.” Thatcher started toward the stall exit. “Lost a lot of trust from the incident.”
Maverick held his gaze. “Reckon you gained the trust of anyone who knows anything about livestock.”
Thatcher halted so quickly that Amelia bumped into him from behind. He reached behind, clasped her arm, and steadied her, but at the same time, he waited for Maverick to explain his statement.
“Took a lot of sensibility,” Maverick continued, “to be able to stand your ground on what was best for that horse even if it wasn’t the easy decision to make and earned you Beckett’s wrath.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s the kind of man I want working around my livestock—one who isn’t afraid to stand up for what’s right even when it’s not popular.”
Thatcher’s chest welled up with gratitude, so much so that for a moment he couldn’t speak.
Amelia’s hand squeezed his, as though she understood what Maverick’s words meant to him.
Maverick offered him a grin. “So when can you start on the vaccinations?”
Thatcher made plans to come later in the week, then he helped Amelia onto his horse and climbed up behind her.
Maverick offered to let them borrow one of his many horses, but Thatcher explained their situation with Queen and said he didn’t mind sharing the mount with Amelia.
At his declaration, Maverick grinned again and said he understood all about that.
As Thatcher guided his horse back onto the road and off the Noble Ranch, he allowed himself a breath of relief.
Squeezed into the saddle directly in front of him, Amelia leaned back into his chest. “Have I told you yet today what a good man you are?”
She’d started asking him that whenever he brought up his question—Have I told you yet today how beautiful you are?
“You’re a good man, Thatcher Hoyt. And the night you walked into the hotel in Breckenridge and decided to marry me was the best day of my life.”
“It was the best day of my life too.” It was. Maybe messes and mistakes were difficult in the moment, but sometimes Providence had a way of turning those messes and mistakes into miracles. And Amelia was his miracle.
She shifted her head enough that she could brush a kiss to his neck.
As her lips touched him, heat rushed through him, heightening his awareness of every part of his body that had contact with any part of hers.
His legs flamed at being tangled against hers.
His chest squeezed as her back curved into him.
His arms rippled with need as her shoulders and arms brushed his.
There had been a few moments when they’d been close to each other, like Christmas Day, when he’d pulled her down onto his lap. Or one of the first nights, when she’d crawled into bed with him. Of course, they’d shared a couple of amazing kisses.
But they’d done their best to remain respectful of their situation and honor their decision to wait until they made amends with Beckett and Eileen before allowing themselves to express their love more fully.
For some reason, at the moment, Thatcher felt a strange freedom with Amelia that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was because they’d worked things out with Beckett. Maybe it was because they had a plan to help Eileen.
Or maybe their love had blossomed and was now ready for more . . .
Whatever the case, her kiss on his neck liquefied something inside Thatcher, and molten heat began to pump through his veins.
He bent in and placed a kiss against her temple. It ended up being hard and lingering and filled with all the heat coursing inside him. “I love you.” His voice was slightly hoarse with need—a need that he’d kept banked but which was now hammering for release.
“And I love you.”
It didn’t matter that he’d told her how he felt about her a half a dozen times already that day. And it didn’t matter that she’d told him the same. He would never tire of saying it or hearing it.
She angled up again and placed another kiss on his neck—this one harder and longer. It contained something that hadn’t been there before. This time she pressed in with a demand for more from him.
Was she feeling that blossoming and readiness too?
He didn’t want to push her too quickly, but was it time to finally open the door and let their love flow freely without any holding back?
Before he could give himself an excuse to back away, he angled in and captured her lips. They weren’t soft and sweet and pliable. Instead, she rose into the kiss with hard, hungry, and demanding lips, and he could do nothing less than respond with the same passion.
The rhythm of their mouths was deep and fast and needy, and it sent his pulse spurting with the same deep and fast and needy tempo.
One of her hands arched around to grasp his neck as though to lock him in place and never let him go. He loved the possessiveness of her hold, and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist and held her possessively too.
Somehow he’d brought the horse to a halt. With the sunshine bathing them in warmth, all he wanted to do was stay there and kiss her until they’d gotten their fill, which he doubted he ever would.
But in the next instant, a gust of north winter wind swirled around them, bringing a cold chill to remind him that they had forever to kiss and didn’t need to try to do it all in one day.
As he finished the kiss, he gathered the reins and nudged the horse onward. Then he forced himself to pull back, but only enough that he was still lingering near her cheek and could kiss her dimple.
She dropped her arm from his neck and seemed to reluctantly shift forward in the saddle again.
They rode in silence for several heartbeats, his cheek brushing hers, and his breath mingling with hers.
“Thatcher?” She spoke breathlessly.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Could we wait until tomorrow to ride into town to send Eileen’s letter instead of going today?”
He couldn’t resist kissing her dimple again, the spot so tender and so soft. “Of course, sweetheart. I doubt one day will make much of a difference.”
“Good.” Her hand shifted to his thigh, her fingers splaying and her thumb rubbing back and forth.
In an instant, her touch ignited him like a torch so that his entire body was on fire.
“Because we have a very busy day ahead of us.” She spoke nonchalantly but with a hint of sultriness that only turned up the degree of heat already raging through him.
“Busy?” He could barely get the word out without his voice squeaking.
“Very busy.”
He cleared his throat. “Busy how?”
Her lips began to curl up into a smile. “You’ll see.”
Was it too much to hope that their busy day would be filled with lots of kissing? “Can you give me a hint?”
“I already did. But just in case it wasn’t clear before . . .” She twisted and fused her lips with his again, just as hard and needy as the last kiss—maybe even more so. It was over before he could respond, and she was settling back against him, this time with a beautiful smile.
He let his smile loose too. “I think I’m going to enjoy our day very much.”
“I think I will too.”
He wrapped her up closer. “I’m going to enjoy every day with you, Amelia. From now until forever.” And he knew that no matter where he was or what he was doing, as long as he had her, he would be a happy man.