Nearby, the horses grazed peacefully, saddle leather creaking now and then, their bridle fittings jingling as they raised and lowered their heads.

Birds swooped and sang, and tiny creatures scuttled through the gra.s.s, and Kendra gave herself up to Hutch, to his hands, his mouth, his husky whispers.

Time slipped away, just as their clothes had. The ground was soft under Kendra's back and their only covering was the sky.

He kissed her until she was so dizzy that the arch of blue over their heads blurred whenever she opened her eyes.

He ran his lips along the side of her neck, across her collarbone, all the while caressing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, one and then the other, with a gentle, calloused hand.

Kendra gasped with pleasure and arched her back, wanting him now, not later.

But the excruciatingly delicious foreplay went on-he nibbled at her, everywhere, tongued her nipples until they were pebble-hard, and finally suckled.

It felt so good that she cried out, offering a single, insensible, desperate plea.

Now. Every nerve, every cell in her body seemed to scream the word.

There was, however, no hurrying Hutch Carmody, when it came to lovemaking, anyway-he continued to take his time, stroking her with his hands, exploring every curve and hollow with his lips or the tip of his tongue.

Finally, he came to the core of her femininity, and touched the soft, moist curls with the heat of his breath, arousing her to an even higher pitch of need.

She begged.

He parted her, took her full into his mouth and sucked.

Glorious heat pounded through her like a drum beat, and her hips rose from the soft ground, seeking, seeking the warmth and wetness of his mouth. She felt his hands, strong, under her b.u.t.tocks, holding her up so that he could drink from her like some sacred cup.

Pa.s.sion and pleasure raged inside her, like a lightning storm, clamoring, climbing, driving her ever upward toward...heaven?

She shattered into blazing pieces, splintering across the sky.

Fireworks, she thought, as her body flexed and flexed again, reveling in wave after wave of satisfaction.

When he'd wrung the last throaty cry of release from her, Hutch lowered her gently to the ground. He knelt astraddle of her, breathing hard, and she was aware of him reaching for something nearby, tearing open a packet, putting on a condom.

Without a word, he poised himself to take her, waited the instant it took for her to nod and slide her hands along the muscular length of his back.

He was inside her in a single, powerful stroke, deep inside her, where all her dreams and secrets lived, and the sweet satisfaction she'd felt only moments before turned to fiery need.

She whispered his name, raised herself to him.

Once they'd attained a rhythm, he increased the pace, then slowed it, now driving into her, now withdrawing almost completely.

His control amazed her, given that she'd lost hers with the first kiss.

Soon, Kendra was flailing in the grasp of an undulating, rippling climax so intense that she thought she might actually die before it ended.

Hutch murmured to her and she saw the muscles tighten along his neck and upper arms as he plunged through the final barrier and let go, giving a low, ragged shout as he spilled himself into her.

Afterward, they lay side by side in the soft gra.s.s, still breathing hard, and a soft breeze rippled over them, like a blessing.

The sky and the tree tops, out of focus before, slowly regained their color and shape, but they blurred a little, too, because Kendra's eyes were full of tears she couldn't have explained.

Hutch raised himself on one elbow, looked down at her face, brushed the moisture from one of her cheeks with the side of his thumb. But he didn't ask why she was crying and Kendra was glad, because she couldn't have explained that the things she was feeling were so big, so ferocious and so wonderful that she wasn't sure she could bear them.

He kissed her softly, briefly, this time offering solace, not pa.s.sion.

They were silent for a long time, recovering, drawing themselves back together like the scattered pieces of a pair of jigsaw puzzles.

Kendra was the first to speak. "You brought a condom," she observed with a little smile.

"Just the one," Hutch replied. "d.a.m.n it."

She laughed richly, freely, openly. For the first time in a long while, she felt whole.

Her joy was bittersweet, though, because she knew it couldn't last.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

KENDRA'S WELL AND thoroughly loved body thrummed with residual ecstasy as she slowly, carefully put her clothes back on, determined to come away looking as though she'd never taken them off in the first place. Hutch, wearing his jeans again and shrugging into the shirt he'd discarded earlier, grinned at her.

Things like this, she thought, were so much easier for a man.

All men had to do was tuck in their shirt and zip up their jeans and they were good to go, with n.o.body the wiser. She, on the other hand, probably had gra.s.s in her hair, and her French braid was coming undone. And even if she got her clothes and hair right, her eyes surely glowed and her cheeks were flushed, too-both sure signs that she'd just had the best s.e.x of her life.

Fortunately, Madison wouldn't pick up on the signals. But Opal might.

Hutch walked over to her, undid the braid completely, and ran splayed fingers through her hair, letting it spill down over her shoulders.

"That's better," he said, quietly grave. "My G.o.d, you're beautiful."

Kendra raised her hands, meaning to gather her hair back and replait it, having momentarily forgotten that the rubber band she'd used to secure it was lost somewhere in the gra.s.s, but Hutch stilled her, his thumbs moving in small circular caresses against her palms.

"I left the house with a braid," she told him as her normal state of quiet agitation overtook her again, "and I'm going back with one."

Hutch chuckled. The way he was touching her made her regret that he'd brought only one condom. With him, once had never been enough; in the old days, they'd often made love for hours at a time, falling asleep in each other's arms and waking up to make love again. And he'd already made her want him again just by touching her and standing so close.

His body was hard and hot and unequivocally male, and she could still feel the weight of it, the power and the thrust, and her own sweet victory found in complete surrender.

"Kendra," he said. His tone was raspy.

"What?" she all but snapped, fl.u.s.tered.

"Your hair looks fine the way it is. In fact, it looks more than fine."

She was looking around for the lost rubber band by then, but in vain. "Opal will guess-"

Hutch rested his hands on either side of her face, so she couldn't turn her head away. "Opal has already guessed," he said, amused. "Why do you think she offered to look after Madison so we could leave the house?"

Kendra ached with embarra.s.sment. Of course he was right-Opal was no fool and the ploy had been a pretty obvious one, too-but on the inside, she was still soaring. Besides, for all her jitters, that reckless part of her remained very much in charge. "Awkward," she said, singsong.

Hutch laughed. "What's awkward? n.o.body's judging us, Kendra-we're both grown-ups, remember?"

"One of us is, anyway," Kendra said, making a rueful face.

He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, before lowering his hands. "Let's go," he said, "before I throw caution to the winds and take you down again, condom or no condom."

"I might have something to say about that, you know," Kendra pointed out, but she couldn't muster up any real annoyance.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, low and easy. His right index finger traipsed lightly down her cheek, along her neck and once around her breast, in a slow, heated orbit.

Electricity jolted through her, and she jumped back a step, every bit as hot and bothered as she'd been when they first tumbled into the gra.s.s. "No," she said quickly. "It wasn't a challenge."

He grinned. Then he made a sweeping gesture with one arm toward the placidly waiting horses.

They each mounted up, Kendra moving quickly so he wouldn't "help."

When they got back to the barn, Hutch took care of the horses and sent Kendra inside to see if Madison had awakened from her nap yet.

She hadn't.

Opal remained in the kitchen and a delicious aroma filled the air.

"All three of you need a real supper," the older woman announced firmly. "Not more carnival food." If she'd noticed that Kendra's hair was no longer pulled back in its former tidy braid, she didn't offer a comment or give any indication that she knew anything special had happened while they were out.

Kendra was fiercely grateful for that; she wasn't ready for anyone else to know, not even Joslyn and Tara, and she told them pretty much everything.

She slipped away to the nearest powder room, washed her hands, splashed her face with cool water-her makeup was long gone but the glow made up for it-and inspected her clothes for gra.s.s stains in front of a full-length mirror.

When she came out, Madison was in the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Is it tomorrow?" she asked Kendra. "Did I miss the fireworks?"

Kendra swept her up, hugged her, and gave her a smacking kiss on one pudgy cheek. "It's still today," she said. "And we're going back to town for the fireworks after supper."

Madison looked greatly relieved, and wriggled in Kendra's arms, wanting to stand on her own. Even at four, she had a streak of independence running through her as wide as the Big Sky River. "Good," she said looking around the kitchen, nodding a h.e.l.lo at a smiling Opal. "Where's Hutch?"

So it was "Hutch" now, and not "Mr. Carmody."

Kendra wasn't sure how she felt about that-or anything else, really. Her emotions were still in a jumble, impossibly tangled. She knew the regrets would set in eventually-she could feel them circling around her, slowly closing in, like wolves waiting for a campfire to die down to embers-but for now, for tonight, she was going to let things be all right, just the way they were.

"He's in the barn," Kendra answered.

Madison, more and more awake as the moments pa.s.sed, tilted her head to one side and studied Kendra quizzically. "What happened to your hair, Mommy?"

Before Kendra could stumble out a reply, Opal came to the rescue. "I could use some help setting the table," she told the little girl, "and I know you're real good at that."

Madison lit up, allowing Opal to take her over to the sink and quickly wash her small hands with a moist paper towel.

Meanwhile, Opal's gaze met Kendra's, full of kind understanding. The woman might as well have said, "Don't worry, everything's going to be all right," her expression conveyed so much tenderness.

Hutch stepped in from outside a moment later, rolled up his shirtsleeves and went through the hand-washing ritual at the kitchen sink. Except for a certain light in his eyes, he looked like innocence personified.

After drying his hands, he took four plates down from the cupboard and set them between the knives, forks and spoons Madison had carefully arranged at each place. He might have been dealing cards, his motions were so deft.

"You ought to come to town with us," he told Opal fifteen minutes later when they were all seated at the table, enjoying her fried chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy. "Take in the fireworks."

"Thank you very much but no, sir," Opal replied briskly. "I've got a big day tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep."

Kendra sneaked a glance at Hutch and saw that his eyes were twinkling with mischief, as well as recent satisfaction. Still feeling the occasional sweet aftershock herself, Kendra blushed again.

"I knew it," he told Opal. "You've got your cap set for the new preacher."

"I do not," Opal said. "For all I know, he's a rascal. You good-looking types usually are."

He chuckled. "What do we know about this guy?" he asked. "If he comes a-courting, I need to be sure he's on the level."

"Stop it," Opal said, though she was clearly enjoying the exchange. "He's a looker and a widower and he has a divinity degree from one of the best universities in the country, and that's the sum total of my knowledge."

Hutch chewed on that, and a mouthful of chicken, for a few moments, swallowed, and went right on teasing Opal. "A Harvard man," he ruminated. "Makes me wonder why he'd want to live in a place like Parable, Montana. What's this yahoo's name?"

Opal glowered at Hutch, but her eyes were dancing behind the lenses of her old-fashioned gla.s.ses. "If you want to know that," she shot back, "just come to church tomorrow and you'll find out."

Hutch huffed out a laugh. "The last time I was there," he said, "all h.e.l.l broke loose."

"We go to church sometimes," Madison put in, eager to join the banter. "Don't we, Mommy?"

"Yes," Kendra said.

"Are we going tomorrow?" Madison asked. "To see the new preacher from Harvard?"

She smiled. A little repentance might be in order, she thought, for me at least. "Unless you're too tired," she answered. "It will be very late when the fireworks get over tonight and you might need to sleep in tomorrow morning."

"Can I ride the merry-go-round again?" the child inquired, on to the next thing, like a firefly flitting from bush to branch. "I want to see if the tiger really bucks like a boy-cow."

Hutch grinned, reached out to tousle Madison's hair. "We'll have plenty of time for tiger rides," he told her. "It's still a couple more hours until it gets dark enough out to set off those fireworks."

"I might be awake at midnight!" Madison marveled. No doubt there were a few storybook pumpkin-coaches going through her mind, drawn by talking mice. To a small child, Kendra reflected, midnight was a magical hour.

"You might be," Kendra agreed, sure the little girl would be sound asleep on Hutch's shoulder again before the grand finale.

"Wow," Madison breathed. "Midnight is really late."