It was his turn to blink. When he did, a bit of moisture slipped onto his cheek, and he made an angry swipe. "Can we back up? I'm gettin' the feelin' we ain't talkin' about the same thing here."

"That's because you've been doing all the talking and won't let me say three little words."

"Laura, when the day comes you can get anything said with only three words, I'll eat my boots."

"You don't own any boots. But I'll settle for watching you eat your moccasins. This is one time three words will do me. I love you, Deke."

He swiped at his cheek again, sniffed, and then closed his eyes. Laura could see he was struggling with everything he had not to lose his control.

"Deke?"

He rubbed at his cheek again, then planted his hands on his hips. After taking a deep, bracing breath, he opened his eyes, looked at her through a suspicious shimmer of wetness, and said, "That's four words, Boston. You lose."

Laura gave a startled giggle. "You, sirrah, are absolutely impossible!"

"I been told that a lot lately."

She laughed again. "I just said I love you. One would think women told you that every day."

His mouth quirked at the corners, then tipped into the lazy grin she had come to love so very much. His eyes still swimming, he said, "Not every day. But a few has said it." His grin broadened. "I just don't make a habit of sayin' it back."

"I see. And in my case?"

"Say it again and see."

Laura's smile vanished, and her own eyes filled with tears. "I love you."

He hooked a hand around the back of her neck and drew her into his arms. Laura could feel him trembling, and in that, she found all the response she needed. She didn't need words. Deke had already told her how much he loved her in a thousand different ways. Twenty-two of those times loomed foremost in her mind, three weeks of abstinence, not that he had been counting.

"Oh, Deke."

"I still ain't told you what I lied to you about."

Taking care not to jostle the cradleboard, Laura hugged his waist. "Do you suppose Star would keep Jonathan for us tonight?"

He pressed his face against her hair. "It was about somethin' real despicable, the kinda thing only a cad and a degenerate and a reprobate would do."

"Thank goodness. You've had my tail tied in a knot ever since I met you. I wouldn't know what to think if you started changing on me now."

He chuckled at that. Then he just held her for a long while, swaying there among the cottonwoods, his arms a safe haven she never wanted to leave. Laura went up on her tiptoes to nestle her face against his neck, loving the smell of him, wind and leather, earth and sunshine, traces of soap scent and saltiness, a blend that was distinctly this man's and only his. What a wonderful thing it was to know that he had wanted her, flaws and all, so badly that he had lied to have her. Considering that she hadn't been able to say west without sticking an ish on the end, Laura thought that was pretty incredible.

"Oh. Deke, I love you so. I'm glad you lied. If you hadn't, I might not be here with you now."

He made a fist over her braid. "After all the times I said I'd never do you like Tristan done, how can you say that? It wasn't just tellin' you the lie that was bad. I been keepin' it from you all this time and plannin' to make love to you when the twenty days was up so you'd be stuck with me." He took a shuddering breath. "Lies and tricks, just like Tristan. I figured if I made love to you regular, there'd never be a time you could be sure you wasn't with child, and then you wouldn't dare leave me. Your daddy ain't likely to welcome you with open arms if you're pregnant with some uneducated cowboy's brat."

Laura hugged him more tightly. "You're not uneducated, Deke. You've just attended a different hall of learning."

"Are you listenin' to me?"

"Yes. And I'm wondering why you didn't."

"Why I didn't what?"

"When the twenty days were up? Why didn't you make love to me? We've lost two whole days, and now we'll never get them back."

He rubbed a hand up her spine, then curled his fingers over her shoulder and squeezed so hard, it hurt. In a voice gone husky with emotion, he whispered, "If I make love to you, Boston, and then I lose you ... well, I ain't sure I could stand it. I'll do all I can to be a proper kinda husband for you. I'll get me a haircut and wear regular clothes and I'll try not to curse. I'll even try to talk proper and use big words if you'll teach me. But you gotta promise me in return that you won't hare off the first time the goin' gets rough."

"Oh, Deke. A proper husband? If you touch your hair, I..." More tears welled in her eyes. "Well, if you even think about doing such a thing, I'll be mad enough to hunt cougar with a butter knife. And if I wanted a man who dressed differently and didn't curse and used big words, I'd hare off for Boston right now and find me one."

"I ain't no good at three-fork supper parties," he warned.

"If I get me a hankerin' for fancy supper parties, which I seriously doubt, I shan't serve soup."

"If your daddy ever meets me, he'll probably disown you for sure."

"Then he's a fool, and I don't suffer fools gladly."

"You sure?"

There was a wealth of hurt in those two words. Laura turned her face in to the cay of his neck, wishing she knew magic, some words, anything, that might undo all the pain that this man had suffered. Banished by his adopted people, rejected by those of his own race, he had been so terribly, terribly alone. He was so strong in so many ways, yet underneath it all, he was vulnerable as a child might be, still looking for a place where he could love and be loved, for a world that wouldn't turn away from him.

Laura wanted to create that world for him. "I'm very sure," she whispered. "If you have a doubt, sirrah, why don't you try making love to me and find out?"

She felt the tension drain from him. "That's the second time you asked me, you know. One more time, and I might rape you right here under a tree. I'm as randy as a two-peckered goat."

"Mr. Sheridan! That is absolutely despicable!"

"I got that word down, Boston. You got another one you can throw at me?"

"Yes?"

"Now, there's a word I can warm up to."

"Yes," she repeated throatily. "Yes, yes, yes."

He straightened from the tree and drew her into a walk. "First let's see if Star'll keep Jonathan for the night. The first time I make love to you, I don't want no aggravations."

"You're referring to my son as an aggravation?"

"My son," he corrected, "and yeah, he'd be a real aggravation if he was to start squallin' at the wrong time. When a man gets himself a pretty little whiskey-haired gal under his blanket, he wants things nice and peaceful. To enjoy whiskey right, you gotta take it slow and kinda roll the taste over your tongue."

A ribbon of nervousness threaded its way down Laura's spine. But it was a deliciously wicked kind of nervousness. "You will remember, sirrah, that I am a lady."

He hugged her close to his side and bent his dark head to nibble at her ear as they walked, doing crazy things to her insides. "And you taste like a lady," he whispered. "Or maybe more like a jigger of fine brandy warmed by my hand before I touch my tongue to it."

Chapter 25.

*Firelight and Deke. Laura found she was far more nervous about making love with him now that the moment had arrived than she had expected to be. She couldn't help but remember the times with Tristan, not only the pain, but the degradation of being used and of being told she was so ugly that no man would want her if a more comely woman were available. But Jonathan was settled for the night with Star and Black Stone, and there were no other excuses Laura could think of to put off the inevitable.

Deke had built up the fire to ward off the chill of the mountain night, so the inside of the lodge was well illuminated. When he turned to her with that expectant look in his silver eyes, Laura thought she'd never seen a more handsome man. Dressed only in buckskins, with the fire-shine bathing his dark hair, carved features, and powerfully muscled arms and shoulders, he looked as a painting might, wild and sun-burnished, his body a study of supple strength. In comparison, she felt drab and pitifully inadequate.

"Honey, you're shakin'," he whispered as he stepped toward her.

Laura tried to swallow, but her mouth was cottony and the sides of her throat felt paralyzed. She plucked nervously at the bodice flap of her leather dress, knowing he would want her to shed it and dreading the moment when she would have to stand before him with nothing to hide behind. He had seen parts of her, but never all of her at once. Even that day down at the stream, he had draped her in the towel, and she had been able to hide by hugging herself.

"I, um..." It wasn't just vanity. She wanted to please this man. If her body disappointed him, if he told her that, she didn't think she would be able to bear it. "I'm sort of bony," she finally managed.

"Laura, you're beautiful," he told her in a husky voice. "You don't need to worry that I ain't gonna like what I see."

"I don't?" she squeaked.

"No, you don't. I done seen all there is to see, and I can't remember a single spot that ain't pretty."

"My legs are thin, and my knees stick out."

He smiled at that. "You're legs is willowy, and there's cute little dimples in them knees that I been dreamin' about kissin'."

Her eyes widened at that. "My hipbones poke out. Tristan said that they jabbed him and"

"Tristan was a mean bastard. Don't you know what them hipbones is for?"

Laura blinked. "I ... well, I suppose... No, what are they for?"

"Them there hipbones is love handles."

"Love handles?" she echoed.

He came to a stop before her and placed his hands on his own hips. "I'll show you later. Anything else you're worryin' on?"

Laura spread quivering fingers over her chest. "I'm not very full-figured up top, and my waist has grown thick."

His eyes held hers, agleam with equal parts tender amusement and mischief. "Laura, you're perfect up top, and I bet I can span that waist of yours with my hands."

"I have tear marks, too."

"Say what?"

"Tear marks, on my..." She lowered her hand to her waist. "Scars from carrying Jonathan. They're ugly-looking, and"

"Them I don't remember," he cut in. "Where are they?"

"On my abdomen."

"On your what?"

She giggled, albeit nervously. "On my stomach."

"Them itty-bitty pink lines, you mean?"

"You saw them?"

"All three, and the biggest one ain't as long as my little finger."

"Four, there are four, and the biggest one is much longer than" He suddenly reached out and tugged a bodice tie loose. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna count and measure the goddamned things."

"I'd really rather you"

"Then I'm gonna kiss every one."

"What?"

He tugged another tie loose, and the top fold of leather fell away. "Laura, you're beautiful, from the tips of your toes, which is the same color of pink as your Well, never mind. But you're pretty all the way up. And you standin' here worryin' is crazy. Do you think I'm perfect or somethin'?"

"Yes."

He ran a hand behind her neck and drew her close. "Ah, honey."

Laura felt better being held in his arms. "I'm just so afraid you'll think I'm ugly."

He tugged her braid loose and worked his fingers through the interwoven strands. "Ugly? Jesus, Laura. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever clapped eyes on. Do you think I ain't nervous? Well, think again, darlin'. I don't know how to do this like no gentleman from Boston might. I got a knot in my gut the size of a pitch bole, and I'm wonderin' if I shouldn't oughta worry more on bein' polite than makin' you feel nice, for fear I might shock you. Then I get to thinkin' if I'm polite and don't make you feel nice that you might not want me to touch you again. And ... well, hell, I'm in a regular state of befuddlement, and here it is time, and I still ain't made up my"

"Nice," she interjected and tipped her head back to smile at him.

"What?"

"II'd like for you to make me feel nice."

She saw his larynx make a monkey's fist and bob upward. "Nice, huh? You know what you're askin' for?" His eyes held hers. "This is me you're talkin' to, remember, not a"

"Deke, if I wanted a gentleman from Boston, I'd go there. I want you to make love to me the way you do it."

His eyes heated and his mouth tipped into that lazy, off-centered grin she had come to love so well. "I gotta warn you, no thumb holdin' allowed."

Gathering what little courage she had, Laura drew back to finish unfastening her dress with shaking hands. Deke assisted her by shoving the leather off her shoulders. As he did, the garment's weight came into play and pulled itself down to her waist. With a twist of her hips, Laura sent it plunging to pool around her feet. Deke was already unfastening halter buttons. He peeled the chambray away from her with an urgency that made her breathless, tossed it aside, and then surprised her by retreating two steps so he could get a good look at her.