Her throaty groan vibrated against his lips, sending them urgently to reclaim the treasure she offered. He combed his fingers through her hair, loving the way it felt silky and smooth as it slid between them. Drifting over her shoulders, his fingers caressed the vee of ribs that slimmed to a sensual swell of hips. He gently slid one hand beneath her tunic to palm a warm, soft globe that peaked exquisitely against the thin material that felt like nothing more than butterfly wings. Her groan became a soft gasp of yearning, a sound so feminine he wanted only to tame, yet protect it in the same instant.

“W-What’s this?” he wondered aloud at the sound of a loud rip that startled him from his revelry. She was not wearing a corset but some strange contraption to cover her breasts, now rendered beyond repair by the impulsiveness of his passion. He raised the triangular patches of cotton netting and the ribbon that held them together. “I’ve torn your undergarment.”

What should I call it? Briar wondered, never having seen anything like it in the fashion catalogs.

“I can always find a new one.” She shook her head, as if unable to regain her focus.

“Buy a new one, you mean.” Briar took a deep breath, attempting to recover his own good sense. No, she meant find. She continuously collected things anyone else might have discarded. She’d been in the office one morning and already there were five new items he’d seen her pick up and place on the desk. Had she picked him up too, like a foundling who was broken and need of repair?

He stepped away from her, more to put distance between himself and his need to touch her again than for his embarrassment over damaging her finery. “I apologize, Ms. McCoy. I don’t quite know what came over me.”

“I came over ye, just as ye came over me. Plain and simple. Not the kiss, by any means”-her fists ended as balls against the lovely hips he’d admired with his hands only moments before-“at least as far as I am concerned. ’Twas one ballyhoo of a brassiere buster, in me way of thinking.”

“I take it that this is a brassiere?” He held up the contraption. Despite the awkwardness of the moment and stab at his pride, Briar began to laugh. His pent-up passion needed release and the laughter allowed him to rid himself of the tension. “I’ve heard of them but never seen one before.”

She nodded. “A homemade one, but it serves the purpose.” She took it from him and laid it on the cot. “I should say served its purpose. I’ll be for finding something else to string it together again.”

Coffee. I need coffee, Briar decided, his throat now parched for anything to quell the taste of Mina. Hell, I need a beer. Briar searched for something to do with his hands to stave off the feel of her. Of all times for the telegraph to lay silent. What he wouldn’t give to hear a ten-liner humming the wires. “Here, better drink your coffee before it gets cold,” he suggested, handing her a cup and taking his own. “No telling when the messages will start up again, and Violet ought to be in soon. She’ll be full of stories, I’m sure.”

Challenge radiated from the golden eyes that seemed to reach straight down into him and twist his gut.

“So we’re gonna pretend we didn’t kiss, are we?” When he took too long to mull exactly how to answer her, her chin lifted indignantly. “I would like to know if ye’re gonna be glad or sad that we did it.”

“Really, Miss McCoy, you continue to amaze me.” Briar stared at her over the rim of his cup. “Why is it is so important that you know how I feel about it?” Yet, he could see that it did matter to her…greatly.

“To see if ye liked it well enough to do it again.”

Do it again? Briar bolted to his feet and put distance between himself and the temptation she presented. Blazes, that’s all he could think of was doing it again, and again, and again. But he wasn’t sure how to handle a woman who wanted in such equal measure. Katie was…well, Katie just wasn’t so hot a burn. “I’m supposed to be the one who…The man’s suppose to-”

“What? Take the lead?” Her hands flung out to encompass the world about her. “I’ve no time for it. If ye canna tell that what we just shared was something God-golden-glorious, then ’tis my sworn duty to help ye find yer wits.”

Briar didn’t know if he liked her blatant, in-your-face sexuality. Hell, admit it man, you like it too much. “We think a little differently, you and I.”

“’Tis rightly so, and ’tis different ye’ve been wanting. I’m just the change of flavor ye’ve been hungry for and yer kiss told ye so. Deny it, if ye like, but the truth is the truth.”

Briar’s eyes met hers. His lips still tasted like hers; the fire of her seduction still simmered in his veins. He may have made a mistake in kissing her, but he would never deny that he was forever changed by it. “I wanted the kiss. Wanted you. But I can’t give you what I don’t have to offer.”

“And what is it that ye canna offer me? That ye’ve no ability to give?”

“A heart that can love again,” he answered with more truth than any she’d demanded of him.

Till now.

Chapter 8

The afternoon had been hectic, leaving Mina little time to think about what had transpired between her and Briar. Incoming and outgoing telegrams were so frequent that she’d barely had enough time to settle Violet in for her nap. But the lass must have enjoyed the hayride. She was asleep almost as quickly as her head lay on the cot. Small wonder Briar had been swamped with all his duties, if today’s activities were any indication.

The moment she thought of him, it was almost as if she could smell the wonderful essence that surrounded her any time Briar was near. A clean, musky, masculine scent that forced her attention away from the machine to see if her imagination had willed him closer.

“You okay?”

Mina wondered how long he’d been standing in the doorway watching her and hoped it had been for a while. That might mean he enjoyed what he saw and, after the kiss they shared and his certainty that she could not persuade his heart to soften, she was determined to make him enjoy being with her. She deliberately stretched her arms and yawned, hoping to define her femininity to its finest. “Tired. But ’tis a good tired I am. Got a lot done.”

His gaze traced her movement, lingering at her breasts then widening as it raised and locked with her own. A grin suddenly lifted his lips as a look of acknowledgment warmed his eyes. Mina smiled back.

For a moment, she savored his grin for all it promised.

For a moment, she let him see that she was making a promise of her own.

And for a moment, she hoped that both promises might lead him to love again, if he would allow himself the chance.

“Was the imp hard to settle in for her nap?”

Mina allowed him a better view of the child that rested behind her. “No trouble at all for an even bigger imp to handle.”

“You may be just what we…she needed.” He moved past Mina and bent down beside Violet. “I haven’t seen her rest this well in a long time,” he whispered.

“I promised her if she took a long nap, I would take her on a treasure hunt after I finished my work.”

“A treasure hunt?”

Violet’s well eye opened. “Yeah, Daddy, and I slept real good. You gonna let her stop now? She worked real hard.”

Both adults laughed.

“Tell you what I’ll do. I’ve got about another hour of cleaning the roundhouse. That’ll see the six-fifteen come and gone. I don’t think Sam will mind taking the reins forty-five minutes early. He’s wanting some extra hours with his oldest’s birthday coming up.”

Briar stood and glanced around the office. “This place hasn’t looked so good since we opened it.” He picked up an old boot standing on the corner of her desk. Indian paintbrush, blue flax, and yucca stalks filled the tanned leather in a colorful bouquet of red, white, and yellow. “You’ve added a decoration or two.”

“I brung her the flowers from out at the breaks, Daddy.” Violet got up and lifted the boot so her father could have a better look. “Old Joe decided to have his annual foot washing in the creek and threw away his old boots. I couldn’t lift but one of ’em, so I put the flowers in it to make it smell better. Angel said it was the best thing she ever got.”

She picked up what was left of the brassiere Briar had ripped off Mina. “I seen her picking stuff up like this off the ground, so I figured she’d like Old Joe’s boot since he didn’t want it no more.”

“Ye figured right,” Mina complimented, quickly taking the bra from her hands and stuffing it in a pocket. “And it is the nicest present anyone ever gave me. If not the most odoriferous.”

“The most odorous?” Panic seemed to etch Violet’s expression. “Can you still use it when the flowers go away?”

Mina’s heart lurched. What was the child really asking her? Was she hearing something in Violet’s tone that wasn’t there? Was she being too sensitive? She couldn’t take the chance of saying the wrong thing. After all, she’d been seven once and left behind. What would she have understood at that age? What had she needed to hear?

“I never throw anything away, lass.” She fingered one of the blue petals. “If I canna keep it, for whatever reason, I fix it and give it to someone who will love it more than me. And the word is odoriferous.”

Violet returned the boot to its place. “Good. ’Cause them flowers got mean stickers, and it was hard picking ’em.”

The wire started humming, signaling an incoming message. Glad for the interruption, Mina turned her attention to duties and let the Duncans visit while she took the message. She needed time to quiet the memory Violet’s question had evoked in her own past. Yet the more she heard of the message, the less she wanted to decipher it.