Wyoming Wildfire (58 page)

“You’re stuck with me. I’ve burned my bridges in Virginia, and Augusta is expecting a baby, so she won’t have time for me any more.”

“Would you like a baby?”

“Not this very minute,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’d have to take care of it for me, and the poor thing would never get a change of diapers.”

“We can give it to Rachel until it grows up.”

“Beast!” she laughed. “It’s a good thing I’ll found out what kind of father you’re going to be.”

“If we have enough of them, I might learn to do it right. I’ll need lots of practice.” But the look in his eyes had nothing to do with children, and Sibyl felt dizzy with the emotion that surged through her.

“You get some sleep,” Burch said, taking the empty bowl. “I’m not going anywhere.” Concern at the way she looked overcame his desire, but it was still a struggle.

Sibyl slept most of the afternoon and woke feeling much stronger. Burch had dinner ready, and she was able to get up and eat at the table, chiding him about the slightly charred crust on the haunch of venison and the lack of a properly balanced table.

“You can serve all the vegetables you like when you get back to the ranch, but if you can find even one single potato hill outside or a jar of anything but dust inside this cabin, you’re doing better than I am.” Sibyl forbore to tease him, and after dinner she dozed contentedly before the fire while Burch cleaned up. But when he sat down next to her, she came wide awake. There were long stretches of silence in their conversation, but the tension caused by their physical awareness of each other began to grow. They talked of the future and of the past, but the undercurrent was of
now
and it grew stronger with every passing minute.

“I think it’s time I tucked you in bed,” Burch said at last.

“You’re bored with me already and trying to send me off to bed to get rid of me,” Sibyl teased to hide her feeling of disappointment. “Do you have a woman hidden outside? I’m afraid she’ll be frozen solid if she’s been waiting all this time.”

“Baggage! I haven’t had time for another woman, even if she had been right here next to me,” he said, ushering her to bed and beginning to wrap the blankets around her. The tension was almost unbearable, and when he began to make up a bed for himself on the floor Sibyl could stand it no longer.

“Aren’t you going to take up your usual position, or don’t you care anymore if I stay warm?”

“Do you really want me?”

“After all the trouble you’ve gone to, it would be a shame if I were to freeze to death now.” Burch didn’t need to be asked a second time. He shed his clothes quick as a chameleon changes colors and was in the bed almost before Sibyl had time to make room for him. He put his arms about her with extreme care, almost as though he were afraid to touch her.

“Hold me tight,” she said, her own voice husky with desire. “I’m not going to break.”

But from the powerful embrace that encircled her, she thought she just might. All
the
restraint, all the rigid control Burch had exercised for days and kept under precarious hold, was discarded. The fear of the last few days, the worry over whether she would live, all found relief in the passionate fever with which he kissed her. He seemed to be reassured by holding her in his arms—feeling her bream on his face, the vibrant warmth coming from her body—and he slowly relaxed. As his anxiety faded, his passions flared and Sibyl felt evidence of his desire against her skin. Her own needs, merely waiting for such a signal, erupted full blown. All the worrying and waiting was over. He was in her arms at last, and no misunderstanding or conflict lay between them. Ahead stretched an unbroken chain of years to spend in contented happiness, free of any shadow of doubt or suspicion to rob them of their sweetness.

Sibyl welcomed Burch as he came to her, at last willing to give up herself, to merge into a unity even more wonderful because of the complete freedom it bestowed on her. She met him, rose to his advance, matched his ardor until they were both consumed by the love they had harbored for so long, waiting for just this moment.

“I think it would be rather nice to have several heirs underfoot,” Sibyl said later, turning so she could look deep into Burch’s eyes.

“We’re not going to die, not ever,” he said, holding her close. “You and I will be the oldest couple in the world; our children will have to find their own ranches. Hundreds of years from now we’ll still be at the Elkhorn, and people will come from miles around just to stare at us. There’ll probably be signs to direct the tourists, and maybe even a special train that comes right up to the front porch.”

“What will the signs say?” she asked, abandoning herself to his foolishness.

“Here lives the world’s oldest couple. They are so busy being in love they can’t find time to die.”

November 19, 1887

Dear Aunt Louisa,

I meant to write you earlier, but things have been so busy it seems I haven’t had time to sit down for as much as five minutes. The rains came this year and Burch is expecting a record price for our steers.

Please apologize to everybody for my not having acknowledged all their gifts. I know it was six months ago, but there are so many I just haven’t been able to keep up. I didn’t know there were so many people in Virginia who remembered me.

All the upset over Jesse has settled down, and hardly anyone speaks of it any more. Poor Rachel has suffered terribly, but Ned never leaves her and we do what we can for her.

I almost forgot. Aunt Augusta was brought to bed of a bouncing boy. He’s positively huge, and Lasso’s so proud he’s about to burst his buttons. Augusta came through the ordeal fit as a fiddle, but Lasso is trying to smother her with kindness. The poor woman says she’s going to have to come stay with Burch and me just to be treated like a normal human being again.

The herd is thriving. Burch bred the bull to some of the range cows, but he gave his greatest attention to getting every cow in the herd pregnant. He wants as many young bulls as possible to turn loose on the range in three years. This year’s calves are healthy and eight out of the eleven are bulls. We’ll be the envy of Wyoming before long.

By the way, I’m expecting a baby myself sometime in the spring. I just hope it doesn’t come in the middle of the calving. I don’t know how I’ll find time for it if it does.

I’ve got to go. I promise to write more later.

Your loving niece,
Sibyl

“Henry, read this letter!” Louisa demanded, thrusting the folded sheets into her husband’s hands. “I can’t see anything to do but for me to go to Wyoming this spring.”

“What?” exclaimed her startled husband.

“I never would have believed it, not even of Sibyl,” declared her outraged aunt, “but I do believe that girl is more concerned about those cows man she is about her own child. Unless I’m there to talk some sense into her head, I wouldn’t put it past her to have that baby in a cow brier!”

About the Author

Leigh Greenwood is the award-winning author of over fifty books, many of which have appeared on the USA Today bestseller list. Leigh lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. Please visit his website at
http://www.leigh-greenwood.com/
.