"Can you drive a buggy?"

She cast him one of those uncertain glances as if he was asking more than a simple question before she squared her shoulders. "I can learn."

"Not necessary." He just needed to come up with another plan. He would never get his high-strung buckskin to stay close to this monstrosity, but it would take too long to clean it off. They were losing daylight fast. "Can you ride?"

She looked at him and then at his horse still waiting in the barn.

"No." There was wistfulness in her gaze.

"Ever want to learn?"

"It doesn't matter anymore." She looked down at the ground.

There was no inflection in her husky voice and without being able to see her expression he had no way to judge whether she was happy with that or not. The bottle rocked against the wheel as she took her handaway.

"Why doesn't it matter anymore?" He stepped forward and steadied the bottle.

"What?"

"Why doesn't it matter anymore whether you want to learn to ride?"

"Oh." Her hand smoothed her thigh through the cloak. "My leg is too weak."

Clint shoved a can out of the way and leaned against the buckboard. "Did I ever tell you about the time I rode Ornery with a broken leg?"

There was a slight shifting of the hood. With a flick of his fingers, he pushed it back. Jenna flashed him a startled glance as the hood slid down her back, her eyes a deep blue in the gloom.

"I can't tell if you're 'yesing' me or 'noing' me."

"Oh." There was a pause and then, "I said no."

"Well, I did, and seeing as I could manage that, I expect you could manage to ride, if you wanted to."

Another of those wistful glances toward Ornery. "It would probably take me a long time to learn."

"I haven't noticed we're running short on it."

She hunched her shoulders and looked down. "I don't learn things quickly."

"I'm known for my patience." Except tonight.Tonight he wanted to be home as fast as possible.

"I'm not very graceful." If her head dropped any lower her chin would be resting on the ground.

"Jenna, look at me."

She did, and even in the descending twilight, he could see the hunger in her mixing with the uncertainty.

She wanted to ride so badly that she could taste it, so why was she throwing up so many barriers?

"I'm teaching you to ride."

Delight flashed across her face before she smothered it with caution. He uncrossed his arms. He pushed off the carriage. "Starting tonight."

Alarm replaced caution, and her eyes flew wide.

"Tonight?" she echoed as he took the reins of the horse.

"Yup." He led the docile horse standing prepared in its harness beside the buggy into an empty stall, tossing it some oats and patting its neck before shutting the stall door and motioning Jenna over. "Come with me."

He could feel her gaze boring a hole in his back, and hear her slightly uneven gait as she felt her way across the barn. There was a thump and a m.u.f.fled curse. He turned to find her rubbing her forehead, glaring at the pole clearly before her. "You okay?"

"Yes." She reached forward with her hand as ifconfirming where the pole was.

"Sunshine, are you having trouble seeing?"

"It's just so dark in here."

Not to him. "Just stay where you are." He settled the roan in front of a bale of hay, traded his head harness for a halter, and swung back toward her. "Here. Take my hand."

Jenna's fingers clenched over his, with just a hint of desperation. He made a mental note of her lack of night vision.

"This way." She followed the tug of his hand.

"There's a bucket to your right."

"You can see in here?" she asked as she gave the bucket a wide berth.

He pulled her in before she collided with a stack of hay. "Yup."

"I guess it's just me then."

"Just you what?"

"Just me who can't see at night. I always thought Jack was just gifted that way, but I guess I'm the one who's different."

"It's not a big thing."

"It can make things difficult in the winter. I get lost sometimes." Her fingers tightened on his as they stepped into a shadow.He stopped dead. He caught her before she could crash into him. He tipped her chin up, wanting to see her face. "Lost?"

"Sometimes things get confusing, especially when it snows."

"And you got lost?" He could feel her skin heating beneath his fingers. She was blushing.

"Just a couple times."

His stomach clenched at the thought. Wyoming winters were nothing to sneeze at. "Were you hurt?"

"Just a little frostbite."

"Where was your husband?"

She didn't answer. Probably because it was a d.a.m.ned fool question. Anyone who knew Jack Hennesey knew he could be found at the bottom of any bottle, shouting about the evil of l.u.s.t and the strength of temptation while he wallowed in both.

"Never mind. I've a good idea."

"He was a good man when he wasn't drinking," she said defensively.

"I'll take your word for it." He'd never seen the man sober. He brushed a curl off her temple. "You won't get lost again."

"I won't?"

"No." He wouldn't allow it."Oh."

He patted the buckskin's rump as he stepped behind Jenna and caught her waist in his hands. "Spread your legs."

He had her airborne before her gasped "What?" had drifted away. Though she'd said that she didn't catch on quickly, she was savvy enough to throw her leg over the saddle and take the horn in a death grip. Ornery shifted his feet and she shrieked. Clint vaulted up behind her.

"Don't go scaring him now or this lesson will be over before it starts," he murmured as he hitched her higher up against him.

She slapped one hand over her mouth, cutting off the outcry, and from the way her ribs swelled under his hand, her air.

"Breathe, Sunshine," he ordered as he flattened his hand over her midriff and pulled her back against him.

She did. Just until he nudged Ornery toward the door. Then she was back to clutching the horn and freezing.

"First lesson in riding a horse is to relax and go with the motion."

Her "Okay" was a nearly inaudible high-pitched squeak. He didn't notice any relaxing.

"Jenna, I won't let you fall. Now, relax your back andlet your weight come against me."

She did, a fraction of an inch at a time, clearly ready at the slightest inattention to spring back to her petrified state. Finally, her head came to rest under his chin. The fur tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the hood tickled his nose.

"That's my girl." He pulled her a little closer. The cloak blocked any sensation, but just the weight of her in his arms was enough to have his c.o.c.k straining. "I'm going to slide my hand under your cloak now, to get a better grip," he warned her as he unfastened the wooden frogs.

"For what?" Her hands were back to death gripping the pommel.

"So you won't be so nervous." And so he could enjoy the weight of her magnificent b.r.e.a.s.t.s on his forearm, but he didn't think she'd appreciate hearing that. He slid his hand inside the cloak just under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. But he did.

Son of a b.i.t.c.h, he did. Even though she had herself bound up tight, he could still feel the soft swells shudder with each step Ornery took as he urged the horse out of the barn. d.a.m.n, he couldn't wait to get her under him.

Those plump, fleshy mounds in his mouth. Were her nipples as plump and luscious as the rest of her? If he sucked on them long enough and carefully enough, would she come for him? Would she shriek his name when he brought her to climax? Or sigh it softly as herbody shuddered under his? Whatever way she came, it'd be his name on her lips. He'd make sure of that.

"Clint?"

She was looking up at him, snowflakes sparkling in her blonde hair, apprehension on her face. He was gripping her too tightly. He dropped a kiss on her brow, smiled at her airy intake of breath, and relaxed his grip.

"Right here, Sunshine."

"I can ride in the buggy."

"I like you where you are."

"Oh."

"Nothing more to say?" There was a pause in which he actually felt her gathering her courage. d.a.m.n, Hennessy had left her shortchanged on confidence.

"Yes."

"What?"

"I need my basket."

Clint looked toward the porch where they'd left it. It would be a challenge to lug it along. "We'll get it later."

She bit her lip, but didn't disagree. He nudged Ornery on. She looked back four times as they pa.s.sed the house, but didn't say a word which he should have taken as acceptance. On the fifth turn of her head, he pulled Ornery up short.

"What's in the basket, Jenna?""Nothing important." Her voice was a whisper of sound, bare of inflection as if she were staying as neutral as possible.

"How not important?"

"It's just your wedding present."

Just? "You got me a wedding present?"

Her voice dropped to almost nonexistent as she answered, "Yes."

Now that was a surprise. Brides didn't normally give their husbands a present. Let alone brides who were marrying out of necessity.

"Will it keep?"

She ducked her head. "It's not important."

The way she tried to sink inside herself told him this was very important to her. Important enough that she worried about his reaction. That meant it was personal.

He wheeled Ornery around.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting my present."

"There's no need. It's nothing special."

"I think I'll see that for myself."

He reached the porch. With a cluck of his tongue, he urged Ornery on. Jenna squealed and pressed back against his chest as the horse lurched up the steps. Hehugged her tighter with one arm as he leaned over and grabbed up the basket. It was heavy, and not because of the threadbare cloak that sat on top.

"What's in it, Jenna?"