Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
SILAS
Wind screams through the eaves, ripping me from slumber. Sounds like winter’s punishing the whole world, Northern Idaho mean, unruly.
In Alpha Ridge Creek, shop owners will stay home today. Let the weather sort things out before venturing to work. Not so for cowboys, though. Work never ends. Only grows more desperate and dangerous during storms.
I go through the motions mindlessly—denim, button-down, belt and buckle before sliding into my boots.
Down the hallway, the light glows from beneath the door to Sage’s room. Stubborn as always. Even after calling me home, she refuses to sit still.
Eight years gone, and she doesn’t need me—except she does.
But will it ever be as much as I need her? And will it ever be right to think this way?
Through the window, I watch the old cottonwood whipping, the swing thrashing. May not make it through this storm.
Downstairs, I hear banging on the door. I meet Ralph on the porch.
He nods, hollering above the banshee screams of the icy gusts, “Already fed, watered the herd. Part of the fence gave way in the winter pasture. Cattle loose near the ravine. Got the boys mending, but we could use a hand wrangling the lost cows.”
Behind me, I feel the heat of Sage. She grabs her red peacoat, shrugging into it.
“Oh, no, you—”
“You’re not going out there alone,” she interrupts.
I growl deep in my throat, knowing by the angle of her chin, the curl of her lips, there’s no talking her out of this. “Stubborn as Dad and a million times sassier,” I grumble under my breath, though I love both of these things about her.
“You expect something else, Cowboy?” she asks, raising her chin.
I shake my head, chuckle.
“We almost need a rope,” Ralph grumbles outside as we race to the stables.
Old timers used ropes in snowstorms so they wouldn’t get turned around, or perish, in whiteout conditions. Just a notch above the current chaos.
“Horses’ll know the way,” I say, more hope than conceit.
Bursting from the warmth of the stables, we enter a world of eerie white. Everything narrows to the feel of my mount beneath me—a swift Indian Paint mare named Twilight—the howl of the wind, and the faint slap of ropes on saddles.
“Stay close!” I command Sage as she and Buffalo come in and out of focus through the white din.
She veers toward me, listening for once. The brown Quarter horse slips. I grab Sage’s reins, nearly bringing Twilight and me down with them.
“Careful,” I scream, like there’s anything she could do about it.
“You don’t get to protect me, Silas,” she taunts.
“Then, stop making me want to,” I grumble, more confession than comeback.
“Goes both ways,” she calls, all vim and vinegar, sprinting ahead and pulling me and Twilight along.
In the distance, we make out dark forms, cattle we drive back toward the winter pasture where ranch hands labor through the storm.
“Keep to the ridge line!” she shouts. I barely hear her above the roar of the gusts.
Pain, ice, and desperation coalesce as the full picture emerges—what Sage has tried to do alone, a burden never meant for one woman.
Overhead, a half-dead pine buckles beneath the weight of the storm.
Crack!
I spur forward, grab her coat and yank her aside as an ice-coated limb breaks free, spooking the few remaining cattle near the fence line. The wood clips my temple, dragging me from the saddle. I drop to one knee, dazed. Scarlet blood dribbles onto white snow as Twilight breezes past.
Sage rushes forward, her eyes meeting mine. I jump to my feet, shake my head, wish I hadn’t done either as I founder, nearly fall backward.
Her hand comes to my back, steadying me as her gaze flickers to my temple. She bites off her glove, fingers come up without hesitation, touching the place where wet heat pools. “You’re bleeding.” A tremor fills her voice.
“It’s okay,” I protest, though I have to close an eye to keep the hot gush out of it.
She shakes her head. “No way. We need to get you to the shack.”
I grab a bandana from my inner coat pocket, dab my temple. Pain awakens searing and angry. Twilight wheels back around, comes to me, nudging my shoulder with her nose. Like she needs to see me move to know I’m alright.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” I croon under my breath, wishing I could speak so freely to Sage. But she’s my sister for crying out loud.
We remount, and Sage nudges Buffalo forward. The Paint mare and I follow until a small structure rises from the whitewash of the blizzard.
The storm screams around us, but the quaint, barely furnished line shack keeps out most of the violence. She clicks a lamp. I flick a switch, and the heater ticks to life in the corner, battling the cold, while sleet rattles the tin roof.
Sage cases the small bathroom, shuffling through drawers before re-emerging with a first-aid kit the color of her coat.
“Have a seat,” she orders, nodding toward the bed. My throat tightens, heart drumming against my ribs.
I obey reluctantly, still pressing a bandana to my temple to staunch the blood enough to use both eyes. I pull it away hesitantly.
“You need stitches.”
I shrug, frowning. “I’ve had worse.”
“Hold still,” she scolds. She doesn’t know what she’s asking me to do as she draws closer, fingers combing gently through my hair. A rough sigh escapes me despite myself.
“You always were bossy,” I murmur, as her emerald eyes snap to mine, checking my pupils. Our faces are inches apart, so close I feel her hot breath on my cheeks and lips. Temptation burns through my veins, my gaze descending to her generous pink lips despite myself.
“And you always scared me half to death,” she snaps back, hands trembling as she works to clean the wound, then apply little white butterfly closures.
“You’re really going all out for me,” I groan, not convinced any of this is necessary but enjoying every moment of it.
She frowns. “Limb probably smashed your brains out, too.”
“Any remedy for that, Doctor?” I tease, voice tighter than it should be.
“Nope. You never used them anyway.” She chuckles, and I long to pull her into my arms, silence her wicked mouth with a kiss.
Instead, I catch her wrist, rub my thumb across the inside where her pulse smolders. “Eight years, and you still remember how to worry about me.”
The air thickens. She swallows, eyes shining. “I never stopped.”
Those three words hang like redemption in the air. Her nostrils flare, pupils dilating as we stare, caught in something too powerful to fight.
“I left to protect you, Sage,” I confess, voice gravel.
She opens her mouth to counter, cheeks flushing, but I cut her off.
“Sassy, let me finish.” I swallow loudly, searching for the words I’ve thought about a thousand times yet never thought I’d actually have the chance to say.
“I couldn’t stay away, and so I had to go.
Dad agreed. Walter and Ralph—they all said distance was best. What happened between you and me …
was a bad way to repay kindness. But I don’t regret a thing, and I’d do it all over again. ”
“So would I.” Her voice trembles, eyes swirling with need.
“Why?” My voice cracks.
“Because I’ve always loved you, Silas. Can’t remember a time I haven’t. Though what I want from you is … wrong.”
I tuck a loose strand of amber hair behind her ear, fingers shaking, thumb caressing her heated cheek. “But is it, though?” I ask the question that’s festered in my brain for eight long years.
“I don’t know, Silas. And maybe I don’t care anymore.”
Her words say what I need them to. My breath comes faster as my hand wraps around her neck, drawing her down to me.
The kiss is tentative, slow at first. Like we’re fighting through the awkwardness, the chaos of our minds, the unruliness of our hearts. But then yearning breaks through, and it turns to quicksand, dragging us both under.
Heat shuttles through me as I grow desperate, tongue sweeping into her. Tasting the one flavor I can never have. The only one I want. She returns it with a fury, sliding into me, rhythm setting the pace for something I’ve barely dared to dream about.
Finally, when we have to break away to breathe, our sighs mingle.
“The world can think what it wants. I’m done pretending,” she says, and something inside me breaks—for better or worse.
I pull her into my lap, her curvy legs straddling me as I take her mouth again.
Passion burgeons, my heart thudding through my body as my work-hardened hands slip beneath her coat, tugging her button-down hem free.
I slide them up the impossible softness of her back, tongue mating with hers.
Cock going so hard, I can barely stand the ache.
She’s all I’ve ever wanted or needed. She has to know.
“I’m a virgin, Sassy,” I admit, half afraid the words will stop her in her tracks.
Instead, sorrow and tenderness swirl in her eyes. “But that’s not possible,” she says, fingers sliding over a hint of stubble at my jawline. “You were in the Marines for eight years. How can that—”
“It is.” I say the words slow, emphatic. “Because no one else but you could ever do, though I know how fucking wrong it is.”
A bittersweet smile captures her lips. “I’m a virgin, too.”
The words put a dangerous sting behind my eyes.
“But how? You’re so beautiful. So sexy. Guys have to be lining up for you.”
A single tear slides past her lush lower lashes. “Only one man I ever wanted to see in line for me.”
My heart cracks, emotion tightening my throat. “I need you more than air, Sage. But if I take you … make you mine… I won’t be able to breathe without you.”
Her eyes pool. I can see her counting cost—ranch, name, family.
“Then, breathe with me, Silas,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “But the consequences—”
She palms my face, stares me straight in the eyes. “I’ve lived with those consequences for eight years. I can’t do it anymore.” Her voice breaks.
My lips find hers, desperate. Kissing like we’ll never touch again. Until we pull back panting, salty tears on our lips.
“I’m not on birth control or anything—”
“Fine by me,” I say too decisively, desire coursing through me. “I want everything with you, Sage. Babies, a family, forever. Without hesitation, the rest of the world be damned.”
“But why me?” Her voice catches in her throat.
“Because I want you more than my life, my soul. Always been that way, no matter how hard I fought it. No matter how sinful some say it is.”
“Not sin, redemption,” her voice croaks, and my lips are on hers again. The world melts away in the heat of our frantic union.
I twist, pushing her back into the bed and making quick work of her boots and jeans. She gasps, eyes pulsing with anticipation as my eyes flick to her lacy hot pink panties, a stripe of wet heat inviting me to bury my head between her legs.
This flavor, this heat, this wet feels right as I slide my tongue through her for the first time with a rebellious satisfaction.
We can never take this back, pretend it didn’t happen.
Even if she tries, I won’t let her, determined to satisfy her so fully she’ll never be able to forget this moment … forget us.
I moan against her clit, savoring everything, burying my nose in her dripping panties, etching her fragrance into my mind.
My thumb slides the fabric aside, and I circle her clit again.
Her hips tick up incrementally, betraying her need.
Desire slickening her folds as I devour her, sliding a finger inside.
Her tight walls quiver, already so close. Everything about her body, the way she responds to my touch feels sacred, sanctifies the painful wait that I thought would never end.
But I could never settle, celibacy better than trying to pretend. Trying to betray myself and her with another woman.
“Silas,” she says like a prayer, voice quivering. “I need you so much. Please don’t stop.”
“Never,” I grumble between swirls of my tongue, sending the vibration of my voice through her clit. Speaking her into my possession for eternity. She pants, legs trembling, so close to giving me everything I can already feel it. “I’ll never stop with you, Sage.”
Her hand finds the back of my head, pushing me into her as I curl my fingers, tugging on the spot that makes her twitch and tremble beneath me. Tongue sucking until her hips chase my mouth. Need unfurling around my finger as I add a second, and she whimpers against the stretch.
“Don’t hold back, Sassy,” I order. “Give me everything … every part of you.”
“Yes,” she whispers, hips rising, walls spasming as she tightens, tightens, tightens around me and then breaks free.
Greedy pulses suck my fingers as I work her clit. Her thighs squeeze my head, body pulsing beneath me as I watch her float away and then fall back to earth. My tongue catches her before she touches the ground, lapping her sweet honey until she melts into the mattress, breathing hard.
I slide my body up hers, wiping my face and then swiping at her moist cheeks. “What’s wrong?” I ask, voice on the verge of cracking.
“What have we done?” she whispers, voice shuddering.
“What we were made to do,” I whisper, grabbing her hand and pressing it to my chest over the spot where my heart thuds. “Pretty sure you’re my missing rib.”
“Missing rib?” She giggles through tears. I feather her face, kissing away the moisture. “Pretty sure without you, my heart would stop beating,” I add more seriously, needing her to know how she’s my entire world and always has been.
“But—”
I claim her mouth again, take it slow. Let her taste herself on my tongue. “We let ‘but’ rule our lives for eight years, Sage. And what did that get us?”
“Pain.”
“Death,” I add, brows furrowing. Her eyes pool, face still flushed with pleasure. “I can’t live without you, Sage McCauley. It’s no good. Try as I might, you stole my heart long ago, and you’re not giving it back, no matter what you say to the contrary.”
“And so?”
“And so let me love you, the way nature intended. Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone—”
“Blood of my blood,” she says, mouth covering mine as she relaxes into me.