hair fell across his forehead, and she had to resist the urge to reach over and brush it back into place.
Desiree breathed a sigh of relief that her fears about confronting Carter hadn’t been realized. At least, not yet. She knew she ought to get up and go do some chores, but the fire made the room seem so cozy that she settled deeper into the overstuffed chair. The house was quiet, with only the sound of the furnace doing its level best to keep up with the cold. She scooched down in the chair, put her feet up on an equally overstuffed footstool, and let her eyelids droop closed.
Desiree wasn’t sure what woke her, but she had the distinct feeling she was being watched. It was a feeling she recognized, and one that caused her heart to pound so hard she could almost hear it. She took a deep breath and let it out, forcing herself to relax. Then she opened her eyes.
Carter was sitting on the couch, staring at her. At some point while she was asleep, he had changed his clothes and was now wearing jeans and a red and blue plaid shirt with his work boots.
She watched him through wary eyes without moving.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.
She sat up carefully. “You didn’t.”
“If you say so.” He yawned and stretched. She was impressed again by the breadth of his chest, by the play of muscles in his shoulders and arms. He caught her looking at him and grinned. “I had hoped we’d spend some part of the day sleeping together, but I had something a little different in mind.”
Desiree tensed, waiting for him to make some move to close the distance between them. But he relaxed with one arm settled along the back of the couch and hung one booted ankle across the opposite knee.
“I don’t suppose we’ll have time now to look at the books before Nicole is awake.”
Desiree looked at her watch. “We’ve slept away the afternoon!”
Carter thrust all ten fingers through his hair, leaving it standing in all directions. “I guess I was more tired than I thought. It’s been a tough week.”
“Oh?” Desiree arched a questioning brow. “What kept you so busy?”
Carter cleared his throat. “Just some business I needed to clear up before the wedding. Nothing worth mentioning.”
He was lying. Desiree didn’t know why she was so sure about it, except that one moment he had been looking at her—well, not at her face, but in her direction—and the next, his gaze was focused intently on the leafy design sewn into his worn leather boots. She didn’t believe in keeping secrets. It spawned distrust. But considering the fact she hadn’t been totally honest with Carter, Desiree could hardly challenge him on the matter.
“What shall we do with the time until supper?” Carter asked.
Desiree was thinking in terms of chores that could be finished, when Carter suggested, “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about what you’ve been doing in the years since we last met?”
“I wouldn’t know where to start. Besides, what matters is the present and the future, not the past.”
Carter pursed his lips and muttered, “If only that were true.”
Desiree met Carter’s gaze. His eyes held the same despairing look she had seen when he held Nicole at the dinner table. What had happened, she wondered, that had caused him so much pain? “Are you all right?”
The vulnerability in his eyes was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by icy orbs that didn’t invite questioning. Desiree welcomed the sight of her daughter in the doorway. “Did you have a good nap, sweetheart?”
“Uh-huh. Are we going for a ride now?” Nicole bounced over to Carter and laid her hands on his thigh, as though she had known him forever.
Desiree held her breath waiting for his reaction. It came in the form of a puff of breath Carter expelled so softly it could barely be heard. He stared at the spot where Nicole’s tiny hands rested so confidently against him. He stood without touching her, and her hands of necessity fell away.
Nicole reached up to tug on the sleeve of his flannel shirt. “Can we go see Matilda first?”
“Who’s Matilda?” Carter asked.
“She’s my calf. She’s black.”
“Matilda’s mother didn’t survive the birth,” Desiree explained quietly. “I’ve been keeping the calf in the barn and feeding her by hand.” Desiree saw the look of incredulity on Carter’s face and hurried to explain, “I—we—can’t afford to lose a single head of stock.”
“I had no idea things were so bad,” Carter said.
“There’s no danger of losing the ranch,” she reassured him. “I’ve just been extra busy because my hired hand broke his leg and has been out of commission for nearly two months.”
For reasons Desiree didn’t want to explain to Carter, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hire a stranger to work for her. Which made no sense at all, considering the fact she had married one.
Nicole grabbed Carter’s hand and began tugging him from the room. Desiree watched to see if he would free himself. He did, quickly shoving his hands in his back pockets. But he followed where Nicole led. She trailed the two of them from the parlor through the house to the kitchen, where they retrieved their coats, hats and gloves and headed out the kitchen door.
As usual in Wyoming, the wind was blowing. Desiree hurried to catch up to Nicole so she could pull her daughter’s parka hood up over her head. Before she reached Nicole, Carter did it for her.
Desiree found his behavior with Nicole confusing, to say the least. He clearly didn’t want anything to do with the little girl, but he stopped short of ignoring her. What had him so leery of children?
Desiree heard Nicole chattering and hurried to catch up. Carter had been doing fine tolerating the five-year-old, but she saw no reason to test his patience.
Thanks to the body heat of the animals inside, the barn felt almost warm in comparison with the frigid outdoors. Nicole let go of Carter’s hand and raced to a stall halfway down the barn. She unlatched it and stepped inside. The tiny Black Angus calf made a bleating sound of welcome and hurried up to her.
“Matilda is hungry, Mommy,” Nicole said.
“I’ll fix her something right now.” Desiree went to the refrigerator, where she kept the milk for the calf. She poured some out into a nursing bottle and set it in a pot of water on a hot plate nearby to warm. When she returned to the stall she found Carter down on one knee beside the calf.
“Matilda’s mommy is dead,” Nicole explained. “So Mommy and I have to take care of her.”
“It looks like you’re doing a fine job,” Carter conceded gruffly.
The calf bawled piteously, and Nicole circled the calf’s neck with her arms to calm it. “Mommy’s getting your bottle, Matilda. Moooommy!” she yelled. “Matilda’s starving!”
Desiree hustled back to the hot plate, unplugged it and retrieved the bottle. A moment later she dropped onto her knees beside the calf. Nicole took the heavy bottle from her mother and held it while the calf sucked loudly and hungrily.
Desiree met Carter’s eyes over the calf’s head. There was a smile on his face that had made its way to his eyes.
“This is turning out to be a great honeymoon,” he said with a chuckle.
Desiree laughed. “I suppose it is a little unconventional.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
There was a warmth in his eyes that said he would be happy to put the train back on the rails. Desiree was amazed to find herself relaxed in his presence. However, her feelings for Carter were anything but comfortable. Her fear of men hadn’t disappeared. Yet she was forced to admit that