Never Marry a Cowboy
“He tightened his hold on her and mumbled, “Where are you going?”
“I want to see the dawn.”
Before he could prevent it, she slipped away from him.
After several days of travel and with less than four hours of sleep last night, he’d hoped they might stay in bed until the late afternoon. “Come back to bed, sweetling. The dawn will be there tomorrow.”
“For you,” she said softly.
He squeezed his eyes shut more tightly, listening to her bare feet pad across the floor as she scurried onto the balcony. Was her life nothing but waiting for death or was she so concerned with death that she avoided life?
He threw back the covers, snatched up his trousers, and jerked them on. He stepped onto the balcony and crossed to where she stood, staring at the sun lightly stroking away the evidence of night. He drew her back against his chest, wrapped his arms around her, and settled his chin on top of her head.
“You didn’t have to get up,” she said.
“I know.”
She placed her arms over his.
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